


If You Should Close Your Eyes

by pinkdiamonds



Series: The Journey Series [1]
Category: Stargate - All Series, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Established Relationship, First Time, M/M, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-13
Updated: 2012-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-29 11:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkdiamonds/pseuds/pinkdiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After John's death, Rodney is granted a miracle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Should Close Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Can a deathfic have a happy ending? I don't know, but this one ends well for Rodney and John. Thank you as always to AM. I owe her lots of hugs and wine as she read and edited this completely out of order as that's the way it was written. Any and all errors are mine.
> 
> Thank you also to Holdt who read the Afterward and cried and then prodded me every so often.
> 
> There are several more stories in this 'verse that will be told. Once again, this universe is free to all to play in as you please. I only ask that you let me know so that I may enjoy as well.
> 
> Cover art by Astroskylark. 
> 
> pinkdiamonds

### 

###  _Imagination is stronger than knowledge – myth is more potent than history – dreams are more powerful than facts – hope always triumphs over experience – laughter is the cure for grief – love is stronger than death.  
Robert Fulghum_

 

The funeral was everything John would have wanted and everything he would have hated. The expedition, now in its seventh year, was well used to death, but this death hit them harder. Colonel Sheppard had been known to all of them, and nearly every person now standing in the gate room owed their lives to him.

~*~

SGA-1 had come through the ‘gate two days ago with Ronon tenderly cradling John’s broken bleeding body, tears streaming down his face. Teyla, stoic, was denying the truth to herself and anyone who happened to glance into her fierce, wild gaze. Rodney was clinging to Sheppard’s hand, begging in a harsh demand for John to “Stay with me, John,” and “Breathe! Dammit, fucking breathe.”

Teyla had radioed Atlantis that they were coming in hot, so Keller and the medical staff were there, as was Elizabeth and the gateroom staff. So they were all witness to the sad resignation on Keller’s face after she worked on John right on the gateroom floor, recognizing there was no time to get him to the infirmary. Rodney’s near hysterical pleading with her to put John into stasis until he could scout out more Ancient medical technology was met with sympathetic eyes as she gently explained that John was gone.

The relationship between Sheppard and McKay was an open secret, and had been for years. Sheppard had never lost the respect of his men, though. In the early years of the expedition he was far from the only man to seek comfort and human contact from the limited pool of scientists and military personnel. When the regulations changed, Sheppard and McKay still kept their relationship low key, feeling it wasn’t anyone’s business but their own.

Of course, they were still in violation of the fraternization regs but given McKay was a civilian, and the most important civilian on the mission at that, Sheppard had a ready made excuse for any favoritism he might show Rodney. Until contact with Earth had been reestablished, Atlantis had been on her own and the military code of conduct had often been ignored either out of necessity, or in order to keep the members of the military from outright rebellion or violence. John hadn’t been about to tell a bunch of Marines who they could or could not sleep with, not when his promotion as the military commander had come at the end of his gun.

Excuses had never been needed, however. Sheppard was protective of every single member of his team and of the expedition, and had always been willing to put his life on the line for his people. McKay had earned his own share of respect, both from the scientists he oversaw, and each member of the military. He was arrogant, condescending, a pain in the ass, and had few social skills, but he was also the person that often stood between Atlantis and certain death, and there wasn’t a person on Atlantis who didn’t recognize that fact.

Even if Rodney’s relationship with John hadn’t been an open secret, Rodney’s reaction to his lover’s death and his painful pleading in the gateroom would have given him away. He had been unable to understand Keller’s words, just staring at her before he began begging and ordering her in turns to move her fucking ass and get John into stasis.

When it became clear to Jennifer that Rodney was incapable of understanding that there was nothing she could do for John, she turned helplessly from Rodney to the gaping hole in John’s chest to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth gave a slight nod and Keller grabbed a hypo from the med kit and slammed it into Rodney’s bicep through his uniform and mid-rant. He turned startled, furious eyes to her, spitting, “You vicious, incompetent bitch,” before collapsing gracelessly.

Sitting back on her heels, Jennifer passed a shaky hand through her hair wondering idly how her ponytail had come loose. Feeling a firm hand on her shoulder, she looked up to see Elizabeth’s tear stained face. “You know he didn’t mean that,” Elizabeth said softly.

“I can’t say I blame him, Elizabeth. I’m feeling less than competent right now,” she replied quietly. She rose and signaled her medical team to move both Rodney and John onto the gurneys. She stayed to make sure they were handled gently and respectfully.

People lined the halls as news of John’s death spread and hampered the walk to the infirmary. Jennifer trailed the gurneys and mentally prepared herself for John’s autopsy, even as she ignored every quiet question directed toward her.

~*~

Elizabeth held the debriefing without Rodney. Teyla and Ronon gave their account of events in terse tones, anxious to get to Rodney’s side, unwilling to let him wake alone. There wasn’t much to tell; it was nearly mundane, an ambush and projectile weapons that found one target, then a run for the ‘gate.

It was Ronon’s assessment that Atlantis was in no danger from those who had ambushed them; it had been opportunity and nothing else. Elizabeth was disinclined to force additional details from them and with only a few questions, accepted Ronon’s assessment, especially when Teyla seemed to be in full agreement. She allowed them to return to Rodney, holding them to their word that she would be contacted when he woke.

Elizabeth watched Teyla and Ronon leave and then locked the door to her office not wanting anyone to see or hear her break down. She picked up a framed photo from her desk that showed about twenty members of the expedition that was taken right after the first Wraith attack. John and Rodney were at the center, surrounded by scientists and members of the military, and a few Athosians, including Teyla. Elizabeth was on John’s right, one arm flung around her neck, the other around Rodney. Ford and Lorne were in the second row, Ford’s hands on his commanding officer’s shoulders, grinning broadly.

She stared at John’s face, the skin crinkling slightly around hazel eyes, his smile huge and infectious and so dear to her. John rarely showed this particular smile and even less rarely allowed people so deep into his personal space, but on this occasion he had.

Elizabeth sat heavily and laid her head on her arms atop the desk and wept, unwilling for the moment to do her duty and write the notification to the SGC. She  
wished for nothing more than to go to her quarters and throw things and then crawl into her bed, her lonely bed, for a week or two. She had given up her dreams about John about the time she realized he was sleeping with Rodney, but she liked to think they’d become friends.

Reaching into a deep drawer, Elizabeth withdrew a small bottle and poured herself a drink of a brandy like beverage she’d been given as a gift. She knocked it back and poured herself another. She sipped at it while she wrote up the notification to the SGC, ignoring the tears that kept falling.

When she was done with the official SGC notification, she began a very private letter to General O’Neill tendering her resignation. She was willing to wait for up to a year, but this had been one death too many for her. Things were better since they had found a partially charged ZPM and reestablished regular contact with Earth, but the truth was they were still getting their asses kicked on a regular basis, and Elizabeth was done.

~*~

Rodney awoke confused, unsure why he was in the infirmary. It wasn’t until his eyes lit upon Teyla, sitting quietly next to him, her face grave and solemn, that memory crashed over him. He struggled out of the bed, feeling sluggish and clumsy and suddenly there were two nurses pushing him back.

“Rodney, you must calm down or Doctor Keller will sedate you again,” Teyla hissed.

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” he shouted, pushing at the hands that were trying to get him to settle back into bed.

Keller walked in and curtly ordered her staff away from Rodney. “Just let me check you over, and I’ll release you,” she said softly, unwilling to upset the visibly distraught McKay any further.

“Fine, but I don’t want you to touch me. Get someone else,” Rodney demanded.

“Rodney,” Teyla chided him. “John’s death is not Jennifer’s fault.”

“I don’t care,” Rodney insisted.

“It’s okay, Teyla. I’ll have a nurse get his stats.”

Keller passed along her instructions to Nurse Cohen, and went to get some tranquilizers, writing out the dosage in her neat hand. Ronon had followed her and resting his big hand for a moment on top of her much smaller one, silently supported her. She gave him a sad smile before moving to discharge Rodney.

Once he was discharged, Rodney insisted on seeing John. Keller hadn’t begun the autopsy yet and he still wore his bloody uniform. His eyes were closed and Rodney could almost pretend he was sleeping.

Rodney sat holding John’s hand for the next hour, silently rubbing his thumb across cool, lax flesh. Keller came in and told him he could come back and sit with John once she had finished with him.

He just nodded his head and left.

~*~

Teyla saw Rodney into some guest quarters, once he revealed that he could not yet face going back to the quarters he and John had shared. He wasn’t hungry and so she had bypassed the mess. Once inside, she read the dosage for the medicine Jennifer had given him and watched while he swallowed down the pill, feeling that more sleep would be the best thing.

She turned down the bed and then got Rodney a wet washcloth and washed his hands and face, much as she would do for Torren. She helped him remove the top to the scrubs he had been given in the infirmary and dragged the washcloth up and down his arms, his neck and his chest. She patted him dry and insisted he get into bed.

She waited with him, stroking his face as he fell into a light sleep. Teyla left quietly, radioing Ronon to let him know that she and Rodney would not be joining him for a meal, and to let him know where Rodney would be spending the night. She then radioed Elizabeth, informing her she would soon be by her quarters to discuss a few things with her.

On her way, Teyla debated what she would reveal to Elizabeth. It might not be necessary to fully explain the relationship between the various members of SGA-1; something all of them had felt was private and only meant for the team. Teyla was sure Dr. Weir would hide any reaction she might have should she be forced to reveal how the rituals of her people had impacted the team, but she felt equally sure the other woman would be quite shocked.

While Rodney had been sedated, Teyla had been hearing the ways in which John was to be honored, and it was very like the way in which every other life lost had been celebrated. What these Earth rituals did not take into account was that Sheppard had adopted many cultural elements from both Sateda and Athos. Teyla and Ronon had discussed it quietly at Rodney’s bedside and felt as though their friendship and relationship with John was being overlooked. Teyla would not allow that to happen. If need be, she would disclose the true nature of the dynamics between the team, so that she and Ronon could honor John in the ways of their own people.

She soon found herself at Elizabeth’s door, which shortly opened for her. Teyla was warmly welcomed and a cup of hot tea was poured into a delicate cup, fixed in the way she preferred.

Elizabeth began. “How is Rodney?”

Sipping her tea, Teyla considered her answer. “He is in pain. He has not yet come to the acceptance that John is gone.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Elizabeth asked.

“I am here to request that Halling be allowed to perform the Athosian death ritual, and that Ronon be allowed to sing John into the afterlife,” Teyla stated.

Elizabeth gently rested her teacup in its saucer. “I’m sure some accommodations can be made, but John was neither Athosian nor Satedian.”

Frowning, Teyla replied, “That may be true, Elizabeth, but just as Ronon and I have adopted much of your culture, John adopted much of ours out of respect and friendship. Many of my people will wish to honor John’s life, and I believe it will be a comfort to Rodney as well.”

For all her learned cultural sensitivity, Elizabeth often had difficulty translating her learning into actuality. She respected and admired Teyla, but was fundamentally uncomfortable with the Athosian leader much of the time. There was also a thin thread of jealousy that tainted her dealings with the alien woman. She hid it well, but Teyla frequently made Elizabeth feel inadequate.

Teyla was now reminding Elizabeth that she, despite all her strange customs, had been closer to John. The reminder cut her. She sighed, and gave in graciously. “The SGC has requested we hold off on the memorial service until the day after tomorrow. Is that enough time to arrange things?”

“It is. And, thank you, Elizabeth,” Teyla answered. She finished her tea and went to her quarters to mourn John in privacy.

~*~

The news of John’s death had been met with shock by those at the SGC. Doctor Jackson happened to be there when the wormhole was opened and he immediately called Jack. General O’Neill was put on speaker in order to speak with Elizabeth. He had asked Atlantis to hold off on the memorial service until the day after tomorrow, allowing him time to contact a few people he knew would want to attend and who were currently off world.

Elizabeth agreed and without going into any explanations, asked that Jeannie Miller also be allowed to attend. Jack informed her that he would personally take care of the family notification.

Once the wormhole disengaged, Daniel spoke privately with Jack and made plans to fly to Canada to collect Jeannie Miller, while Jack and Sam Carter began taking care of the many mundane details that always came with unexpected death.

~*~

Early the next day, Elizabeth met with some of her key staff, letting them know who was expected from the SGC. She was grateful that the only VIP expected was General O’Neill. Neither she, nor her people were up for entertaining any of the sometimes prickly personalities contained within the SGC and the IOA.

She informed her personnel that besides O’Neill, they could expect Doctor Jackson, Colonel Carter, Teal’c, Vala Mal Doran, Colonel Caldwell, Colonel Mitchell, Colonel Davis, and Colonels Coburn and Edwards. Jeannie Miller was also expected as was Richard Woolsey representing the IOA. Elizabeth assigned members of her staff to escort their various guests to their quarters and to be available to help them find their way around Atlantis.

John’s memorial service was to be held in the late afternoon of the next day. Generals Landry, Hammond, and Vidrine would be waiting at the SGC to receive John’s body and then escort his casket to his family, along with General O’Neill, Doctor Jackson, Colonel Carter, and Colonel Davis.

Major Lorne was temporarily put in charge of the military, and informed that a promotion and permanent assignment to the position had been requested. What the SGC and IOA’s final decision would be was anyone’s guess.

Elizabeth was finishing up when they were alerted the Stargate was activating. Everyone rose to greet their guests.

~*~

Lorne had been assigned to show Jack, Daniel, Sam, and Teal’c to their quarters. He had spent enough time at the SGC that he’d heard every rumor that spread throughout the mountain. Remembering the dynamics of the relationships between these four, he adjusted Doctor Weir’s assignment of quarters, quietly radioing the change of plans. He put Colonel Carter and Teal’c in VIP rooms next to each other. He then escorted the General and Doctor Jackson to another section of guest quarters, again placing them in rooms next to each other.

Daniel chuckled at the chagrined look on Jack’s face. “I think he’s what’s known as unobtrusive,” Daniel remarked to his lover, referring to Lorne.

“He might as well make an announcement over the citywide,” Jack grumbled.

Grinning, Lorne straightened his spine. “This is Atlantis, sir. With the Wraith threat always hanging over us, we tend to take our chances when and where we can.”

Glancing at his lover, Jack nodded his understanding. “That’s probably a good attitude, Major.”

Daniel went inside the small apartment assigned to him, unsurprised to see that there was a connecting door between his apartment and Jack’s. Daniel walked through to Jack’s quarters, carrying his belongings. Jack hung up his dress blues and Daniel hung up his suit in the small closet. Both men unpacked their satchels and then took a few moments to step out on the balcony to admire the view.

They relaxed for a while, discussing the loss of Sheppard and how that might impact on the functioning of the city. It was a futile discussion since no one knew how the city would perform without a strong gene carrier. Daniel decided he would accompany Jack on his informal inspection of the city.

~*~

Jeannie walked through the gate, her eyes searching out her brother the moment she stepped through. Disappointment and worry slammed through her when he was nowhere to be found. Teyla was immediately at her side, relieving her of her overnight case. “Jeannie, I am sure you are anxious to see Rodney. I will take you to him as soon as I show you where you will be sleeping.”

“Thank you, Teyla. How is he?” Jeannie asked with concern.

“Doctor Keller was forced to sedate him yesterday, and he got a few hours of sleep after he was released from the infirmary. He has been sitting by John’s body or in his lab ever since,” Teyla said, her lips thin with disapproval. She knew work was Rodney’s way of dealing with most things, but thought in this instance it was unhealthy.

Teyla showed Jeannie her quarters, which were in the same section Rodney had spent a scant few hours sleeping. Teyla hoped that placing Jeannie near him would force the grieving scientist into at least some sleep tonight.

She left Jeannie at the entrance to the lab, not wanting to intrude on the sibling’s reunion.

“What’d you do, Mer, borrow someone’s clothes,” she asked from the doorway, taking in her brother’s ill-fitting clothing.

Rodney looked up from his screen. “Actually, yes, they are borrowed if you must know. I take it you’re here for the memorial service.”

“Doctor Jackson called me. He said General O’Neill thought you’d appreciate having me here,” she said softly, walking to take her brother in her arms. “I’m so sorry, Mer.”

Rodney turned into her embrace, burying his head into her neck, his tears hot and bitter. He seemed broken and felt fragile in her arms. She let him cry, stroking his back, her own tears falling unnoticed.

Rodney’s tears eventually dried up and he was grateful that the lab was empty; he would not have wanted anyone to witness his breakdown. Jeannie insisted on a tour, even though she had been on Atlantis before. There were parts she’d never gotten to see on any of her previous visits, and thought it would be a good way to occupy her brother.

Rodney obliged her, taking her to many of the places that he and John had haunted over the years, telling her stories about the things they had done and said when they were falling in love.

Eventually, Rodney could see his sister was tiring and he headed back towards the mess, only stopping at the laundry to pick up clean clothes to wear for the memorial service. He sat Jeannie down and went to get her some food.

Rodney had gotten Jeannie a full meal, taking only coffee and pudding for himself. She smiled her thanks. “Sorry, Mer. I’ve been on the go since Doctor Jackson called me yesterday.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take back to your quarters after you eat.”

“Hey, how about we get a cot for you, or we could get a cot for your room. Teyla told me she put me near your temporary quarters,” she suggested brightly. She was worried about him and was hoping to tempt him into getting some rest. “Come on, Mer, it’ll be like when we were kids and camped out in each other’s room.”

Rodney gave her a sad smile. “Thanks, Jeannie. I appreciate the offer, but I’m not ready for bed and I kind of want to be alone.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind, wake me up.”

~*~

After a very late dinner, Jack and Daniel returned to their quarters, tired from the mourning of the entire expedition. Jack took out the bottle he’d brought for Rodney and checked his pocket for the small piece of metal he had slipped into it earlier in the day. Kissing Daniel, he said, “Don’t wander too far, I won’t be long.”

“Stay as long as he needs you, Jack,” Daniel told his lover, understanding why Jack wanted to comfort Rodney.

Jack tracked Rodney down in his lab, where he was working alone. He was wearing ill-fitting sweats and Jack would bet a year’s salary he hadn’t been back to his quarters since John’s death. He looked pale and drawn, and it seemed obvious to Jack that Rodney was barely holding it together.

Watching Rodney deeply involved with his work reminded Jack of Daniel, and also of the year Daniel was gone. McKay had been exiled to Russia, but was regularly called into Cheyenne as a consultant for things Carter didn’t have the time for, or for problems in which she required the input of an intelligence even greater than her own, a fact she would never admit to Rodney.

The scientist had been called in on a consult four months after Daniel’s ascension and was really trying hard to get back into Hammond and Carter’s good graces. Jack had felt a little sorry for him. Making a mental note to have a talk with Hammond to see what he could do to get him transferred out of Russia, Jack left to finish up some paperwork, before going to eat a lonely dinner at MacKenzie’s Chop House.

He was deciding between the Sirloin and the New York Strip when McKay walked in. Jack asked Rodney to join him and the two men had a leisurely steak dinner, managing to bond over hockey and beef.

Almost aching for human contact, Jack asked McKay if he wanted to come back to his place for a drink. Rodney would never be able to fully explain what had made him say yes, but he had. He later thought it might have been a combination of the stress of trying to be nice all day, the fact that O’Neill didn’t seem to mind his usual blunt, sarcastic manner, and that Jack had a look of what could be read as desperation around his eyes.

Jack always knew it was inevitable that he would end up in bed with someone sooner or later as he was an extremely physical man, but he never thought it would be would be with another outspoken, snarky genius. He’d taken Rodney to his bed and ended up breaking down in his arms, confessing that he didn’t know how he was going to make it without Daniel.

For 48 hours, Rodney had held him and blown him and fucked him, laying tender kisses up and down his long, lean body with his wide, crooked mouth. After the two days spent in bed, Jack was able to breathe for the first time in months. He still missed Daniel with every fiber of his being, but he didn’t feel as though the pain was going to tear him apart at every moment.

Jack and Rodney had occasionally met at the SGC afterward; neither of them ever referring to the two days they had spent together. When Daniel had returned and eventually gotten back his memories, Jack had told him, hoping Daniel wouldn’t see it as a betrayal.

He hadn’t; Daniel had been grateful to Rodney, grateful that he had given his lover comfort, allowing Jack to find a measure of peace.

Jack cleared his throat, not wanting to startle Rodney, but also giving him some time to compose himself. “Where’s Jeannie?”

Snorting, Rodney said, “She went to bed. Did she sic you on me?”

“Nope. I just wanted to see you,” Jack drawled.

“Afraid I’ll do something stupid before I figure out a way to get rid of the Wraith?” Rodney snarled in anger.

“No, just afraid you’ll do something stupid,” Jack calmly answered the accusation.

“Well, really, who would blame me?” he asked bleakly.

Jack strode into the room, depositing two glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniels in front of the grieving scientist. “Should I quote the second brilliant man who once stood between me and my gun?”

Rodney looked up into Jack’s face, surprised to see anger. “That was different, Jack. You knew Daniel wasn’t really dead.”

“He felt dead to me, Rodney. And I‘m pretty sure John…”

“Don’t,” Rodney interrupted with heat. “Don’t fucking tell me what John would have wanted.”

“Even if you know it’s the truth?” Jack said gently.

Scrubbing his face, Rodney motioned for Jack to take a seat as he opened the bottle and poured off two shots. He handed one of the glasses to Jack and raised his own glass in silent salute.

“Before you turn in your letter of resignation, why don’t you think about taking a leave of absence? You can stay here or go back to Earth. Hell, you can stay with Daniel and me. Whatever you need, Rodney, I’ll make it happen,” Jack offered.

“How’d you know?” Rodney asked. He’d been in the process of clearing his workload and mentally composing his letter of resignation.

Jack’s eyes softened. “It’s amazing how well you get to know a person when you spend two whole days in bed with them.”

Rodney supposed that was true to some degree. Jack certainly seemed to know him well enough. The thought of leaving Atlantis was just another thing ripping him apart, but he also wasn’t up to retuning to work as though nothing had happened. “I’ve already got a month bereavement leave.”

“So?” Jack answered. “You can still take a leave after that’s up. It’s not like you aren’t entitled. And I can guarantee you won’t be replaced, McKay. It’s not like there’s a whole lot of people walking around with your skill set.”

Rodney thought for a few minutes. A leave would give him the space to think about what he really wanted to do. “Maybe - - maybe I _should_ take a leave of absence. Just until I know what it is I want to do.”

“Just email Dr. Weir, McKay. Do it now. Make sure you cc me and I’ll approve it before we go home. If you want to spend some time on Earth, my invitation stands. We’ve got a guest room that you can have as long as you want,” O’Neill told him, watching as Rodney began to quickly type.

Rodney hit the send button before he could change his mind. “Jack . . . Um, thanks, Jack. You can go back to Daniel. I‘ll be fine.” The weariness of his spirit and body could be heard in his voice.

“Look, I know you probably don’t want to go back to your quarters. I didn’t sleep in my bed for two months after Daniel went glowy. Why don’t you take Daniel’s bed for the night?” He had a feeling that if he didn’t take Rodney with him, the grieving scientist would spend all night working. He picked this moment to reach into his pocket and hand Rodney the small piece of metal, saying, “I kinda figure this belongs to you.”

Rodney took the object Jack handed him and knew immediately what it was; one of John’s dog tags. He gripped it tightly, biting back emotion, and added the tag to his own. “Thank you, Jack.”

“No need to thank me, McKay,” Jack said roughly. “Come on. You need to sleep tonight if you’re going to get through tomorrow.”

“Daniel won’t mind?” Rodney questioned. He really couldn’t face John’s absence in their apartment right now, or the barren emptiness of his borrowed quarters. It would be comforting to know that friends were just next door.

“No, Rodney. Daniel won’t mind.”

By the time they made it to Jack’s quarters, Rodney was drooping with exhaustion. It had been a long day and he’d had to keep battling the waves of grief that hit him every few minutes.

Daniel greeted them and sized up the situation in seconds. Leading Rodney through the door that connected the apartments, he showed the scientist to the bedroom, said a quiet goodnight and closed the door gently behind him. He rejoined Jack in the small sitting area.

“He got to bed okay?” Jack asked.

A shadow of guilt passed over Daniel’s face. “Yes, but he looks wrecked. Is that - - is that what it was like for you?”

Jack made a bitter noise. “Yeah, Daniel. Just like, only he’s not getting John back.”

“No, I don’t suppose he is.”

~*~

The funeral was everything John would have wanted and everything he would have hated. It started with Halling chanting of John’s deeds, Jinto striking small bells whose sound lingered on the air. It was simple and beautiful.

After Halling finished, Elizabeth strode to the podium and spoke for the expedition as a whole, recalling instances of John’s bravery. General O’Neill spoke for the SGC, eliciting chuckles when he recounted how he’d met John in Antarctica. Richard Woolsey spoke for the IOA, informing the mourners how they read all of John’s mission reports with baited breath, amazed at his bravery and leadership.

It was Lorne’s turn next. He barely got through his short speech, trying to impart the depths of respect he and the military contingent felt for their commander. He spoke of how every member of the military knew John would never leave them behind and would always do the right thing, no matter the cost.

It was Teyla’s turn next. She spoke of her first meeting with John and the near instant rapport between them. She spoke of the respect they held for each other, and the trust they had for each other. She told the large group of grieving people how the Athosians had come to love John and how comfortable John had felt among them. Lastly, she spoke of her own love for John. She was solemn and dignified and brought every person in the room to tears.

Ronon reached the podium with tears streaming down his face. He began singing in the Satedian manner, his deep voice sending a chill through the gathered people. He sang of the warrior bond between him and John, and of trust, and love. Finally, he finished and the hushed quiet of the audience signaled the end of the services.

Elizabeth announced that refreshments would be served in the cafeteria. John’s flag draped casket would be left for the moment on the catafalque in front of the shielded Stargate, an honor guard stationed at the head and foot.

During the service, Jeannie had clung to Rodney’s side, as had Teyla and Ronon in turns. Zelenka stood at Rodney’s back, his hand never leaving his shoulder. Elizabeth and Lorne along with a number of scientists stood nearby, trying to lend their support. Teyla had placed Torren in front of Rodney, hoping the child’s presence would help ease his grief.

Jeannie felt her brother shake throughout the service. She willed her strength into him and tried to warm his icy hands. She had forced a tranquilizer down his throat earlier, believing he wouldn’t he wouldn’t make it through the day without it. She didn’t bother to hide her tears, crying over the loss of a man she had considered family, and for the loss her brother was feeling.

She now led him into the cafeteria and poured him hot coffee. He refused any food and she contented herself with the knowledge that she’d had the large box of chocolate she’d brought with her delivered to his quarters. She wanted to take care of him, but her time was limited. Soon, the ‘gate would be opened and she’d be back on Earth. She had an awful, dark premonition that she would never see her brother again.

She forced him to a quiet corner. “Meredith,” she began. “I want you to come home with me. Just for a few weeks. Please,” she begged.

“I - - I can’t, Jeannie. Maybe in a couple of months, okay?” he answered.

Sniffling, she said, “I’m going to hold you to that, Mer. And if I don’t get regular email until I see you, I’m going to talk Jack O’Neill into letting me go through the ‘gate so I can kick your ass in person.”

“Does this mean you love me?” he asked half sarcastically, half hopefully.

Overcome once again by the premonition that she would never see him again, she reached out to drag him to her, holding him close and attempting to keep the tears that wanted to fall at bay. “Yes, you big idiot. Of course I love you,” she whispered in his ear.

“I love you too, Jeannie. Thanks for coming. . . John would’ve appreciated it,” he whispered back.

All too soon, they were being called back to the gateroom. General O’Neill, Carter, and Caldwell stood on one side of John’s coffin, while Lorne, Bates, and Cadman lined the other side. Rumor had it that a lottery for the Atlantis contingent had been held for the honor.

A recording of a lone bugler playing Taps started when the folding of the flag began. Every member of the military stood at attention, saluting their commander one last time. For the first time, Rodney wondered where John would be buried, and if his brother, David, would allow him to know. He hoped it would be Arlington so that he could go visit one day. He wasn’t sure John’s family would inform the military, or him if the burial were to be private. It was unfair, he thought. John should be buried here; this was his home, not Earth.

Once the flag was folded, Jack made his way through the crowd to present the flag to Rodney. “On behalf of the President of the United States, the Department of the Air Force, the IOA, and a grateful nation, we offer this flag for the faithful and dedicated service of Colonel John Sheppard,” Jack intoned. He snapped off a salute and returned to John’s casket.

Jeannie hugged Rodney and went to take her place for the trip back through the Stargate. Teal’c and Daniel joined Jack, Sam, and Caldwell at the coffin, while the others grabbed bags from where they had been stashed. John’s casket was moved back in anticipation of the ‘gate being opened.

Taps was played again as the ‘gate was dialed and the wormhole established. The visitors from Earth slowly walked through and the ‘gate was soon silent. Rodney turned on his heels and left the gateroom the second the wormhole winked out. Eyes downcast, he never noticed the respect accorded him as scientists and soldiers alike came to attention as he passed by.

Rodney was numb. He was in no mood to join John’s Marines or his scientists in the mess, or wherever they were holding the Atlantis version of an Irish wake. Knowing he had to face reality, Rodney gathered his resolve and headed for his quarters.

Entering the apartment, Rodney wondered how the hell he was supposed to live here when every square centimeter of their shared quarters carried a memory of John. He hadn’t changed the sheets and they still held the scent of John’s body. The bathroom still held his toothbrush and their mingled toiletries, the closets and drawers, John’s clothing.

A book Rodney had asked John to take a look at was still open on the small table by the bed, and John’s transparent tablet was on the desk, close to Rodney’s. His ‘Pilots do it in the cockpit’ mug, with a residue of dried coffee sat next to Rodney’s ‘Physicists do it with uniform harmonic motion’.

It looked as though John was just gone for the moment; at a meeting or sparring with Ronon, and that he would be returning any time now. Except that he wouldn’t return, not ever again, and Rodney had to find some way to deal with that.

This was the first time he’d been able to face coming back here. He’d spent the time from John’s death sitting by his body or in his lab finishing up what projects he could or assigning them to his staff. Practically the only break he’d taken was when Jack had taken him to his quarters and allowed him to sleep for a few hours in Daniel’s bed.

Now he had to decide what he wanted to do not only with the six months leave of absence he’d asked for, but for the rest of his life. The only thing he knew was that he wasn’t quite ready to leave Atlantis. This was where he felt closest to John. He could go back to Earth and stay with Jeannie or Jack, but there were few memories of John there and he couldn’t bear to let go of his memories just yet.

One thing he and John had always discussed was fully exploring the city and searching out overlooked and forgotten technology or research. John had felt the weight of awakening the Wraith every day and he hoped they might find something that would allow Atlantis to get rid of them, or find some hint as to how to make ZPM’s. That research would allow them to protect the remaining populations of culled planets.

Rodney wanted nothing more than to help John atone for what he saw as unforgivable sins. Unfortunately, there had always been something else screaming for their attention. As Rodney was deeply uncertain if he would stay on Atlantis, he now thought that searching the city and perhaps finding something that would help accomplish the twin goals of destroying the Wraith and finding the methods of building or charging the Zed’s would be the perfect legacy - - for both himself and John. All he had to do was convince Elizabeth.

~*~

Elizabeth was at her desk when Rodney showed up. She’d received all the emails he’d sent over the last three weeks. She wasn’t thrilled that he wanted to take a six-month leave of absence, but as General O’Neill had already approved it, she had no choice but to allow it. Even though she’d discussed her resignation with Jack, she was pissed that he’d gone over her head and approved Rodney’s leave without the courtesy of a discussion.

She was even less thrilled with Rodney’s second request and had a feeling if she denied him outright, he’d go straight to Jack for permission. She thought by putting some restrictions on his request he would soon tire of them and get back to work, surrounded by people that cared about and who would help him through his grieving process. Elizabeth was reluctant to let Rodney explore only because they’d been burned by leftover tech too many times. She didn’t think she could stand to lose anyone else.

“Sit, Rodney. Can I get you some coffee?” Elizabeth asked.

He merely lifted a brow in answer.

“Right, stupid question,” she stated. She poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Rodney, taking the opportunity to examine him. He looked awful; he had obviously lost weight and the circles under his eyes were deep and dark, set against his unhealthy pallor. Suddenly, all the restrictions she was thinking of placing upon him in order to encourage him back to work seemed harsh and incredibly selfish.

She didn’t have it in her to break him any further. Although her original reasons were ultimately for his benefit, she knew Rodney would view them differently and she had too much respect for him to impose those restrictions. He was a grown man who had given much to the expedition. He deserved to make his own decisions without anyone coercing him in any way.

“I’ll be happy to grant your request to search the city for overlooked tech, Rodney. The only restriction will be that you have one other person with you, and that’s for safety’s sake,” she told him with no preamble.

“One person?” Rodney replied. He wasn’t about to fight too hard. He had been prepared for a battle and Elizabeth had just pulled the rug out from under him. “Hopefully no one too stupid.”

“I think you’ll be able to live with Major Connors. He’s got a Masters in engineering and he’s the youngest of seven children, so he’s used to people trying to push him around,” she smiled. She didn’t mention that Ryan Connors was also used to standing his ground.

~*~

Rodney wanted to get started as soon as possible. He wasn’t sleeping very well, even with the medication Doctor Keller had given him, so he radioed Connors and told him to be ready at 0600 the next morning.

For his part, Connors was looking forward to exploring the city with Doctor McKay. People kept giving him looks of sympathy and patting his back, but he ignored them. He knew Doctor McKay’s reputation and ignored that as well. He was sure he’d be able to handle the mercurial astrophysicist.

Before seeing Elizabeth, Rodney had thought about where to start his explorations. He’d considered using the Sheppard method of flipping a coin before he remembered a brief conversation they’d had about four months ago.

Coming practically on the heels of another discovery, Rodney had put the conversation at the end of a long mental to-do list. It had been decided sometime in the second year of the expedition that scheduled days off were not a luxury, but an absolute necessity. Rodney and John were in the habit of spending the majority of their days off in bed, making love, watching movies, playing chess, and just relaxing.

Every so often one or the other of them would throw together a few supplies and a meal and they’d go exploring, either on the city, or on the mainland of the planet. They were far from the only people to occasionally spend a day off in this fashion. Sometimes the debris the Ancients had left behind were discovered. Most of it was interesting and useful, but not scientific in nature. Musical instruments, toys, and cookware were among some of the more interesting things found.

All the major labs on Atlantis had been found and explored, but many of her former inhabitants had worked from their apartments. At least that’s what Rodney assumed from the few living spaces he’d managed to explore. A home office was the only conclusion he could reach for the extra rooms the larger apartments had. He could figure out no other use for the counters, shelving, and deep drawers contained within these rooms.

It was in just such a room that Rodney and John had found the transparent tablets and the Ancient equivalent of thumb drives. The tablets looked like square pieces of a light flexible plastic, except when John had poked at a pile of six of them, the top one had unfolded. Like the database, a screen with Ancient letters scrolling across had popped up.

In one of the drawers, Rodney found six jewel-like devices. He was immediately reminded of the Goa’uld reading devices he’d seen at the SGC. The ones he’d found were in colors of deep blue, green, purple, red, pink, and yellow, and shaped in a square, rectangle, an oval, a pentagram, octagon, and a circle. Like gems, they were faceted on the topside and flat on the underside. They would fit snugly and comfortably in the hand.

Rodney had spent the next two months experimenting with the tablets and the pretty hand devices. It was apparent very quickly that the tablets were the equivalent of personal computers, light weight and easily carted around. They were capable of being DNA coded, and thus private. Only those with the ATA gene were able to use them. They worked with a mental interface like much of the Ancient technology.

They figured out what the jewels did by accident. John happened to be holding one of them when he was attempting to search for games on the tablet. The only thing he found was a fantasy garden whose elements he was able to change. He put his green jewel down on the corner of the tablet and happened to see a brief glow. He asked Rodney for his tablet and searched out the garden. It became apparent after five minutes that Rodney’s tablet didn’t have that program. Intuitively, he placed his jewel on the screen, where it again glowed briefly. Seconds later, the fantasy garden appeared. They went to Rodney’s lab and immediately tried transferring information from the database to the tablet, which was easily done.

Rodney worked overtime after that to marry this tech with the computers they had brought with them. He and Radek spent a long quiet weekend working nearly non-stop to figure it out. Once they had, Rodney had transferred every book, movie, TV show, game, and bit of music he could find on personal computers onto his blue jewel and downloaded it into John’s tablet as a gift. He also included several games that he had designed. John showed his gratitude in the most pleasurable ways he could find for the next two weeks.

It became something of a race to find more of the tablets. Their usefulness was immediately clear to everyone. Elizabeth allowed more exploration into previously overlooked residential buildings in order to obtain more of the unique technology, sure Rodney would be able to overcome the ATA requirement for use.

They found twenty-five more tablets in three different buildings before Elizabeth called a halt to the searching. In every case, jewels were found with them. Rodney was unable to make the tablets work for those without the gene, and due to their scarcity, they became something of a status symbol.

Two months after John and Rodney's initial discovery, John had come back from a run, excited by the new route he’d run and a building he was sure contained tech of some kind. Rodney thought it must be something putting out a bit of energy if John had been able to sense it, but when he was told where the building was, he was positive nothing had ever shown up from that section on the sensors.

They had made plans to go back to the building, but it kept getting put off and it hadn’t happened. Rodney thought it would be the perfect place to begin his personal exploration. Thinking back on the conversation, Rodney now thought John had been a little too offhand and casual. It would be in his nature to have discovered something, but then to let Rodney ‘find’ it.

~*~

Connors showed up the next morning, bright and all too chipper for Rodney’s taste. He looked over the young Marine, trying to remember if he’d see him before, but Connors had the sort of bland, good looking, corn-fed face that didn’t stand out in a crowd. He was 5’8”, fit, as were all Marines, blonde and blue-eyed. The only thing that distinguished him from any other young mid-Western American were his deep dimples when he smiled.

“Good morning, sir,” Connors said.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Rodney grumped back. He looked Connors over, pleased to see he was armed, and carrying a stuffed backpack. “You have everything I told you to bring?”

“Yes, sir!” came the swift reply.

Rodney grabbed his own backpack. “Good, let’s get going.”

Rodney walked them to the nearest transporter and sent them to the closest transporter in the western part of the city that worked. It would be a bit of a hike from there. They hadn’t yet fixed all of the broken transporters. It seemed stupid to fix them when no one lived or worked in most of the city, and there were a hundred other things that had to be dealt with. If they ever got rid of the Wraith, Rodney knew every scientist with clearance would be clamoring to come work on the city, and some of these building would then be open. But, Rodney didn’t think he’d be around to see it.

The buildings were densely packed in this part of the city, and Rodney hadn’t been here for some time. There had been several major labs located here which he had checked out when they were first found, but there had been little else to interest him. He remembered the general location John had described and soon found the building John had spoke about based on his very brief description.

Rodney checked to see if there was an energy signal and unsurprisingly, there wasn’t one. On the several occasions John had discovered new tech, he had tried unsuccessfully to explain to Rodney that Atlantis has somehow pushed him in the right direction. Rodney had trouble understanding this, as he believed in what he could see on his instruments or with his eyes, and not a gut feeling, which is what John, likened it to.

The building was not among the tallest in Atlantis. It was on the outside of the clustered buildings, and would have an unobstructed view of the ocean. From the outside, it looked about twenty stories high and was sleek and streamlined as was most every other structure on Atlantis. Rodney recognized it from the large, intricate stained glass window above the entrance.

He was about to enter, when Connor’s arm held him back. “Sorry, Doctor McKay, but I need to go in first.”

Rodney was so intent on locating the building, he had nearly forgotten about his escort. “Well, go ahead if you must, but be quick about it. Chop, chop.”

Connors was gone for nearly five minutes. “All clear, Doctor McKay,” he said when he came back out.

Entering the building, Rodney was immediately impressed by the large, airy lobby. He made a circuit of the room, going so far as crouching to have a look under the couches hugging the walls. A large table or desk positioned toward the back had no drawers, and there was nothing hidden or secured beneath it.

He quickly found the transporter, and decided to start at the bottom and work his way up. He and Connors exited on the first floor and found a broad, elegant hallway with a set of wide double doors situated on either side of the transporter. Rodney turned right and stood off to the side while Connors entered the first apartment. He swiftly cleared it and allowed McKay to enter.

The room he stepped into was large and held a few couches, chairs, and tables. The back wall was made entirely of glass, and had a view of the ocean. The room to the right was a kitchen and contained a multitude of cabinets and drawers. Quickly going through them, Rodney found eating utensils and cookware. The back of the kitchen led to one of the large rooms Rodney considered a home office.

He went back to the living area and went to the left and found three bedrooms and a bathroom. Before exploring any further, he asked Connors to go check out the other apartment. Once it was cleared, Rodney did a quick walk through, finding the same layout in mirror image. He then went back to the first apartment to thoroughly explore every nook and cranny.

He found the bits and pieces left behind by whomever had lived here, left behind as useless or because they knew they could replace it, or by error, or because they were in a hurry. For all of that, there was surprisingly little left behind in all of Atlantis, and it was no different here.

Rodney and Connors repeated their search on fifteen floors, stopping to eat lunch on the seventh floor, using one of the kitchens, spreading themselves out comfortably. During lunch, Connors was busy speculating that the apartments probably belonged to various leaders. Rodney could not disagree.

He’d gotten used to Connors hanging back just far enough to not get in the way, yet close enough to see everything Rodney saw. He took his job seriously and having heard about how often the stuff left behind by the Ancients had bitten the expedition members in the ass, he was determined to make sure McKay would stay safe. Since he was fairly quiet and not a moron, Rodney put up with him.

They made plans to leave the next day at the same time. Connors saw Rodney back to his quarters, much to his chagrin. One look in the mirror told him why people were treating him like a hothouse flower. The lack of sleep, food, and sunshine was apparent, even to his tired eyes.

He dug around in his backpack, retrieving his half eaten lunch and nibbled at a piece of fruit. He took a bite of a half eaten MRE to stave off hypoglycemia, even though he wasn’t in the least bit hungry. He showered and fell into bed; too exhausted to cry over the lack of John’s scent on bedding he hadn’t yet been able to bring himself to change.

~*~

Connors showed up again, just as bright and chipper as the day before. Despite his exhaustion, Rodney had slept poorly. “I’ve picked up lunch for both of us, Doctor McKay,” he reported, as though this was part of his job description.

Rodney had ignored his dark looks yesterday as Connors had stared in disapproval at Rodney’s lunch. He’d forced fruit onto him, refusing to pack up lunch and leave until some of it had been consumed. It made Rodney feel as though he had a nursemaid, but he didn’t have the energy to protest it either.

They had their routine down, and familiarity with the apartment set up allowed them to work efficiently as a team. As they neared the top, Rodney was starting to think that he hadn’t remembered the conversation with John correctly and had somehow gotten the building wrong. It didn’t matter to him. He’d finish this one, and then start exploring every nearby structure.

When they got to the twentieth floor, they were both surprised to find only one set of double doors. “Oh, look, it’s the penthouse,” Rodney snarked.

Connors snickered. “Wait out here, Doctor McKay. It wouldn’t do to get careless now.”

The check of the apartment took longer than usual. Rodney tried not to get his hopes up that he’d find something. He was angry that he might have forgotten something that John had wanted him to know. Realistically he knew he couldn’t possibly remember every word that had passed John’s lips, but he felt he should. John’s loss was still too raw for him to feel otherwise.

“Wait till you get a look at this place, Doctor. It’s a really sweet set up,” Connors interrupted his thoughts.

Rodney walked into an enormous room with its almost cathedral like ceiling. He checked out the kitchen next and it was three time the size of any of the others. The home office, however, was the same. The real difference in the apartments could be seen in the bedrooms and bathrooms.

There were five bedrooms, all of them stunningly beautiful. The bathrooms had large Jacuzzi like bathtubs, and gorgeous stained glass graced every room. Although all the apartments had balconies and ocean views, the penthouse balcony was large enough to hold a garden, and could easily fit a few dozen people.

It wasn’t until they entered the fourth bedroom that Rodney knew how lucky they had gotten. He put off his search and went to check out the last bedroom before returning to the most unique room they’d yet seen in all of Atlantis. It had the feel of a girl’s bedroom, perhaps a teenager. Large, exotic flowers were painted on two of the walls, their colors still vivid and vibrant. On the other walls, small painted flowers were scattered, their centers containing small shining gems in a rainbow of colors.

Whoever had painted the walls had been unbelievably talented. Rodney was shocked that the room looked as though it had been vacated moments ago. Clothing hung in the closets, and the drawers were filled. Belongings filled the spaces on top of the furniture, and the bathroom held jars of crystals and large folded towels.

He photographed and then filmed the entire room, opening drawers to record how they were arranged before he began his search. The lessons Daniel Jackson had imposed upon each member of the expedition had left their mark. Rodney had no desire to listen to a full out Jackson rant if he neglected this vital step.

Once he began searching, Rodney took his time, his shadow behind him every step of the way. He wanted to be thorough because there was no way to keep this room from the anthropologists. That didn’t mean he was willing to let anyone else have a shot at any tech that might turn up.

He started at the bottom and worked his way up. He examined every inch of the floor and walls, looking for voids where something could’ve been stashed. He pressed on every jewel within each flower. He went through every article of clothing, pulling out drawers, and looking under the bed. Every centimeter of the room was examined, and of course, something was found.

A small square box, sitting on top of a dresser that held clothing was eventually opened. The box measured about eighteen centimeters on all sides and was about five centimeters deep. It appeared to be made of a black stone like material, and the top and sides were decorated with what looked to be enamel. The top had a deep blue background with five vibrant red flowers. The centers of the flowers had small deep blue jewels in their centers. The sides had the same flowers in miniature placed at irregular intervals.

Rodney opened the box carefully and saw about two dozen round disc like objects. He took one out to examine it, holding it up to the light. It had tendrils of deep blue and green twisted throughout and was half again as big as an American silver dollar. As he looked closer he thought it looked like a computer chip. The discs in the box all had a similar appearance.

“Wow, gold coins! I wonder how they got such deep blues and greens,” Connors said reaching to touch. “I didn’t know the Ancients used money.”

“Huh?” Rodney grunted in some confusion, slapping away Connors’ hand. “They didn’t,” he blurted out before he could curb his tongue.

“Well, they’re beautiful. Maybe they’re game pieces or something,” Connors speculated.

“Or something,” Rodney said distractedly. He’d just caught sight of one of the discs near the bottom glowing.

He closed the lid gently and made some minute adjustments to his scanner. He probably should have started with a scan, but he’d wanted to make any discoveries using his own senses. He now purposely walked away from the box and scanned the entire room. The scanner registered only the expected energy signals. When he reached the box, a very tiny spike appeared on the scanner. Had it not been for his adjustments, Rodney knew that the energy being put out by the discs would have been far too small to measure.

Rodney was surprised to feel anticipation flooding his body. Weighed down with grief, he hadn’t thought that there would be room for anything else so soon after John’s death. He glanced at his watch shocked to see it was nearing 5:00 P.M. “I think I’m going to wrap it up here, Connors. Pack up the cameras,” he ordered.

While Connors was busy packing up the cameras, Rodney slid the box into his knapsack. As the Chief Science Officer, he had no need to explain his actions to anyone; he only knew he wasn’t ready to share this discovery just yet.

Connors again escorted Rodney back to his quarters, handing him the cameras before he left. They made arrangements to meet again the next day, and Connors took his leave.

~*~

Back in his quarters, Rodney had showered and was now attempting to puzzle out the mystery of why Connors saw gold coins interwoven with strands of blue and green when he saw what looked like incredibly complex and flat miniature computers. Connors expression of the ATA gene was fairly strong, maybe even a tad stronger than Rodney’s, so it wasn’t the gene that caused them to see different objects. At the moment, Rodney didn’t even have a clue, let alone a working hypothesis.

Glancing at the clock on the bedside table, he saw that he had about an hour before he was due to meet Teyla, Ronon, and Radek for dinner and decided he had more than enough time to give the contents of the box at least a cursory examination. He grabbed the box and opened it, peering inside.

Connors was right; the discs _were_ beautiful, with deep emerald greens and sapphire blues twisting into intricate patterns. They were all different, but only one was glowing.

Rodney was now sure that John had made this discovery months ago and had initialized this particular computer, or whatever the hell it was. So that was the one Rodney gingerly removed from the box. He felt certain that it would be something cool, something John had found and played with and then left as a surprise.

Gripping the disc tightly, he felt the usual energy he associated with all Ancient tech run through his hand. For a brief span of time, nothing more happened, although a momentary, but intense feeling of vertigo caused Rodney to briefly close his eyes. He opened his eyes just in time to see the walls shimmering, before they dissolved completely. The walls were replaced by unfamiliar and almost crudely built structures on one side of an unpaved street and a sturdy brick building at the top of the street. Trees surrounded a large, neatly manicured space across from the wooden buildings, with a large number of people gathered at the far end, and noise and odor suddenly assaulted Rodney.

The somewhat sterile air of Atlantis had been replaced by a pungent mix of manure, freshly mown grass, and cut wood. Rodney could hear people shouting, the crack of wood against a ball, and a banjo being tuned up. He viciously pinched himself, even as he felt the sweet heat of the sun beating down on him, followed by a lazy breeze.

When the pain of the pinch didn’t change anything, Rodney’s mind made the jump that the Ancient artifact he was still holding had caused this. The only questions that remained for him were: Had he actually been transported to this place? Or, was this some sort of elaborate virtual reality, or an alternate reality? He needed to figure it out quickly because if he wasn’t on Atlantis, he had to find a way back.

Needing more data, Rodney decided to explore. He slipped the disc into the front pocket of his jeans and began to walk toward the shouting. It obviously hadn’t rained here in a few days as his feet kicked up dust from the road. He could see the imprint of hooves and grooves made by slender wheels in the dirt. Piles of manure dotted the road.

He walked to the large crowd of people, many of them seated on makeshift, poorly built bleachers. An intense game of baseball was going on, with young men and boys cheering and trading taunts. McKay just had time to notice that nearly everyone was dressed in old-fashioned clothing before the next batter came up to the plate. He managed to pick out several men who, like himself, were dressed in jeans, and clean, button down shirts. The only difference Rodney could see was in the softness of his jeans when compared to the heavy stiff denim he could see.

“No batter, no batter!”

“We want a batter, not a broken ladder!”

The boy, about seven or eight heard the taunts and his shoulders slumped. He was raw boned and skinny, with dark, messy hair. Raising his chin, he gripped the bat, and faced the pitcher. The pitcher, a redheaded boy about eleven sneered at the batter, then turned to the sidelines where other boys were waiting for their turn at bat. “This is the best you’ve got?” he asked.

Rodney saw a flush slowly make its way across the batter’s cheeks and felt an immediate kinship with him. Once upon a time, that had been Rodney; taunted when he was forced to play sports, or always picked last for teams, he remembered well the flavor of rejection.

The pitcher spit and then wound up, throwing the ball hard.

“Ball!” the umpire shouted.

The catcher tossed the ball back to the mound. The ball made a satisfying thump into the pitcher’s leather mitt. He examined the ball, turning it in his bare hand a time or two and then prepared for the next throw.

The boy at home base swung wildly.

“Strike one!”

“No batter, no batter!” roared the boys, including the ones on his own team.

With a smug look on his face, the catcher threw again.

“Strike two!”

The boys began chanting, “We want a batter, not a broken ladder.”

Rodney had had enough and pushed his way through the crowd. “Hey, kid!” he shouted. “It’s simple physics. Wait one more second from when you want to swing and then let loose,” he instructed.

He read new determination in the set of the boy’s shoulders and held his breath as he waited for the next pitch. A loud thwack announced to all that he had hit the ball. The boy ran to second base amid cheers.

Rodney waited through three more batters as two runners came home, including the boy he’d helped, giving them the winning run and victory. Surrounded by smelly, sweating people, Rodney was fairly certain that what he was experiencing couldn’t be virtual reality. At least not any virtual reality as he knew it. He also discounted an alternate reality; he felt the device was just too small to have thrown him into an alternate reality. Besides, the Ancients had developed the quantum mirror; what would be the point of developing a way to an alternate reality that could be carried around and seemed uncontrollable? It made no sense.

It was possible what was happening was being pulled from his own mind, but he had doubts about that too. He was pretty sure that the odors of sweating humanity without benefit of deodorant wouldn’t be part of any fantasy he might have. Nor would children playing baseball. Or men and women dressed in the odd, stiff, old-fashioned styles. He was also sure the Ancients had never heard of baseball. Their taste in entertainment seemed to run to the sophisticated or the bizarre from everything he’d seen on Atlantis.

Rodney had taken the time to really notice his surroundings. The trees were recognizable, something that had never occurred in the Pegasus’ galaxy. There was one sun in the sky, and, unscientific though it was, it _felt_ like home. All indications pointed to Earth sometime in the past. Besides the clothing, there were the buildings with no neon signs or the hum of air conditioning that spoke to Rodney of the past. It was also hard not to notice the lack of automobiles, telephone poles, electric wires, or paved roads.

The boy ran up to a man who bent down awkwardly to hug the skinny child. A toddler clinging to the man was trying to squirm away. The child was jumping up and down, pulling on the man’s arm to tug him in Rodney’s direction. The man, taller than most of the people surrounding him, had his face buried in the toddler’s neck.

Rodney supposed it was the boy’s father and was gathering himself to be polite. Truthfully, he didn’t have time to be polite right now, but thought it might be the best way to get information about where and when he was. He was starting to worry about getting back to Atlantis. He waited, hoping the guy wasn’t too stupid.

As the man approached Rodney, he lifted his head and Rodney stared at him, the edges of his vision going dark. Swaying slightly, he fought to not lose it; fought and won. This had to be some kind of fucked up break from reality because what he was seeing was impossible.

John, dressed in tight black pants, topped with a black vest on top of a snowy white long-sleeved shirt was walking toward him, his lips tilted upwards in a slight smile. Rodney’s greedy eyes took in other details; the thin neck tie, the rolled up sleeves showing strong forearms, the shock of dark, messy hair, and beautiful eyes, somewhere between green and hazel.

“I wanted to say thank you,” the boy’s father said. “Patrick has been having a hard time learning how to play baseball,” the man continued, seemingly unaware of Rodney’s shock.

“My - - my pleasure,” McKay stuttered, eyes never leaving the face of this stranger who looked exactly like John.

The man stuck out his hand and introduced himself. “I’m John Sheppard, Patrick is my older son, and this little man is James.” James lifted his head upon hearing his name and gave his father a sunny smile.

“McKay, um …” Rodney hesitated.

John’s face was clearly expectant, and Rodney thought fast. He had no idea what was really going on here, and thought that giving his full name might not be such a good idea. “Meredith McKay,” he blurted, still unable to drag his eyes from John’s face.

“Nice to meet you Mr. McKay,” John said, his eyes shining. “Would you care to join us for lunch?”

Soft twittering behind John drew Rodney’s attention. There were a half dozen women standing a short distance from them, all very young and preening like a colorful flock of birds. The predatory gleam in their eyes completed the bird look for the scientist. “Will Mrs. Sheppard be joining us?” Rodney asked.

John’s face shut down, and he stated flatly, “Mrs. Sheppard is dead.”

Rodney made a point of looking over John’s shoulder at the waiting women. “Won’t you be disappointing one of your admirers?”

“Trust me, Mr. McKay. I don’t give a damn about disappointing empty-headed females,” John replied. “In fact, you’d be doing me a favor and would be saving me from insulting most of the eligible ladies in town.”

Biting back a bark of laughter, Rodney asked, “Are there other eligible ladies?”

Pointing with his chin to Rodney’s left, his eyes shifted and he said with a small, telling shudder, “The widows.”

Rodney looked and saw three older women standing together, their attention divided between him and John and the younger women.

“Well, clearly you need my protection,” Rodney accepted the invitation, all thoughts of finding his way back to Atlantis gone.

The men made their way to the picnic tables that had been set up as the banjo player began picking out a tune, singing along. Rodney couldn’t hear the words to the lively tune until he got closer.

 _“He captured Harper’s Ferry, with his nineteen men so few,_  
And he frightened "Old Virginny" till she trembled thru and thru;  
They hung him for a traitor,  
Themselves a traitorous crew,  
But his truth still marches on.  
Glory, glory…”

Smiling as he heard the old Civil War anthem, Rodney remembered the song Jeannie used to sing when she was in the Girl Scouts, set to the same tune. He began singing, making sure that only John could hear him.

 _“I wear my pink pajamas_  
In the summer when it's hot,  
I wear my flannel nightie  
In the winter when it's not,  
And sometimes in the springtime  
And sometimes in the fall  
I jump right in between the sheets  
With nothin' on at all!  
Glory, glory Hallelujah,  
Glory, glory what's it to ya,  
Balmy breezes blowing through ya,  
With nothin' on at all!”

John turned a startled face to Rodney as he caught the made up words, and threw his head back, laughing loudly.

Rodney’s pleasant voice faltered as this John shared the braying laugh of his lover, confusing him once again about what was happening to him. Rodney didn’t notice the people around them looking, or hear the low murmur of conversation wondering what could have made the attractive, but far too serious widower suddenly so carefree.

A homemade sign reading, ‘Welcome to Hastings-On-Hudson - - First Founder’s Day Picnic, June 5th, 1880’ hung suspended between two trees and stopped Rodney in his tracks for a long moment. He’d once attended a friend’s lecture at Columbia University, and had been invited back to his Westchester home, in the village of Hastings-On-Hudson. But, that quaint, historic, well-heeled town was worlds away from this one. Or, Rodney thought, perhaps it was only years away.

“I’m going to go grab our picnic basket, Mr. McKay. Why don’t you settle the boys at that table,” John suggested, pointing to an out of the way table under a tree and handing off James to Rodney.

Rodney found himself with an armful of wiggly toddler, unsure how to hold the squirmy child. He scowled at Patrick. “Doesn’t James walk yet?”

“He walks real good in the house,” Patrick answered.

“Oh, well, that’s just terrific. Especially since we’re not _in_ the house,” he complained. James picked that moment to wind his plump arms tightly around Rodney’s neck and lean his head on his shoulder, yawning loudly in his ear. Rodney felt something inside melt.

Patrick claimed the table as one of the widows walked over to him, clucking. “My word, Patrick, that was a mighty fine hit you got, but I think you need some feeding up. Where is your father? I do believe you could do with a woman’s hand. I’ve got a picnic basket just full of the finest home cooking you could imagine,” the woman rattled on.

Rodney saw Patrick’s face fall, going from joyful to closed off in seconds, reminding him of John. He took umbrage at what he felt were insults to John’s parenting skills, thinly disguised as concern, and for entirely selfish reasons. Rodney stepped in, having no compunction about insulting anyone. “And are you applying for the position of mother?” he asked rudely. “Patrick doesn’t need feeding up, and from what little I’ve seen, Mr. Sheppard can have his pick of women. I seriously doubt he’d settle for the likes of you,” Rodney said, his tone scathing, as he raked his eyes up and down the gray clad woman’s thin frame.

John arrived at the tail end of Rodney’s rant, trying to keep the amusement from his expression as he took in Mrs. Cutler’s furious face. Although he generally got by on his charm in an effort to adhere to the expected social niceties, Mrs. Cutler had been overly aggressive in her interest. She made no secret that she wished to remarry and she had set her sights on John from the moment he’d stepped foot in town.

Seeing John approach, she pounced on him. “Are you going to allow this - - this vagrant to talk to me in such a fashion, sir?”

“Mr. McKay is no vagrant, Mrs. Cutler, he’s my friend.”

“I can’t say I approve, Mr. Sheppard,” she said primly.

“It’s not your place to approve or disapprove,” John reminded the persistent widow.

John waited a few moments after Mrs. Cutler huffed off before a wide grin split his face. “I only caught part of what you said to her, but thank you, Mr. McKay. That woman has been a thorn in my side for well over a year.”

“It’s okay. I think she scared Patrick out of a year’s growth. And my friends call me Rodney,” he admitted.

“I thought your name was Meredith,” John remarked.

“It is. My middle name is Rodney, and I prefer it.”

John put the enormous basket down and reached for James who had been curled quietly in Rodney’s arms. “Rodney it is then!” John agreed. “Let’s get this basket unpacked. I’m hungry.” He settled James onto the bench, telling him to sit quietly.

Rodney gladly reached to do his part in unpacking the overstuffed basket. A tablecloth was the top item and Patrick spread it quickly. Rodney hummed happily as he helped to unwrap deviled eggs, fried chicken, potato salad, bread, a green salad, new strawberries and a glass bottle of cream, and generous slices of chocolate cake. Dishes and utensils were provided as were cups and cool water.

“There’s a beer keg over there,” John pointed, “and coffee over there.”

“A beer would be nice,” Rodney observed.

“I’ll get some as soon as I set the boys up,” John said. He fixed a plate for Patrick and pulled apart a piece of chicken for James, added a slice of bread, cutting up a few strawberries, and set the plates in front of his sons. James immediately grabbed his slice of bread and began gnawing it.

“Was any of this prepared with lemon?” Rodney asked, his crooked mouth turned down slightly.

John couldn’t help but notice that wide mobile mouth, and a hundred inappropriate thoughts cropped up in his mind. It had been a solid month since he’d taken a trip to an establishment that he frequented in Manhattan and he now thought that he’d left if for too long.

“John?” Rodney questioned.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “No, no lemon, or any kind of citrus. Patrick doesn’t care for it, so Sabina doesn’t use it.”

“Sabina?”

“My - - cook,” John answered.

“Oh, well, that’s good,” Rodney replied unhappily. He had noticed John’s hesitation when he answered, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Sabina were something more than just a cook.

John saw Rodney’s unhappiness and wished he could explain his situation. He’d felt an immediate connection with this man and was so damn tired of all the lies in his life. He would have no problem acknowledging his true relationship with Sabina; he loved her, but it was her insistence that forced him to keep their connection secret. He hoped Rodney’s current unhappiness meant what he thought it did. He thought he’d caught a whiff of interest on Rodney’s part, subtle though it was. He vowed to make it up to Rodney if he could.

When Virginia had been alive, it had been easy enough to get away to London or other large cities for business several times a year, concluding his business within a few days, and then spending as much time as he could in the flesh pots and brothels that catered to men like him. He would never be able to live his life the way he wished he could, but the sex he found in the brothels left him empty. He longed for something deeper, and Rodney was just his type. He was solidly built, had an offbeat sense of humor, wasn’t overly concerned about what people thought of him, and wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. If it turned out he was smart, John knew he was sunk.

“Yes,” John went on, needing to wipe the unhappiness from Rodney’s face. “I love Sabina like a mother. She’s been with my family since before I was born, and raised me after my mother died.”

John stood to go get them some beer. He hadn’t told Rodney the whole truth, but had given him enough to lift some of the pain from his eyes.

On his return, John handed Rodney his mug of beer and looked over at his sons as he slid in to sit closer to Rodney than was considered polite. Patrick had begun plowing his way through his meal, still riding the excitement of his hit and neglecting every table manner that Sabina had ever taught him. James alternated between putting bits of food in his mouth and smearing it on his face and in his hair. He looked content and babbled happy sounds.

Rodney had waited for John to begin eating, and he now dug into tasty chicken and creamy potato salad, stopping to occasionally take a bite of a deviled egg, or a sip of beer. John ate more slowly, but with just as much gusto. Every so often, he would offer James a small bite of his food, smiling with pride when James opened his mouth like a baby bird.

The men and boys’ attention was centered on their food and there was little conversation, other than comments on how good the food was, or requests to pass one dish or another. Rodney’s appetite, usually healthy, but missing since his lover’s death, now seemed to have gone into overdrive. He speculated idly that it might be a product of - - of whatever was happening to him.

But, finally, even Rodney was reduced to tiny bites. “Sabina can cook for me anytime.”

“I hope you left room for cake,” John chuckled.

“I’m sure I can find some room,” Rodney stated dryly.

“Sabina makes the best cake in the state, Mr. McKay!” Patrick broke in.

“You’ll get your cake after we’ve had some time to digest our meal, Patrick. Why don’t you go play for awhile,” John suggested.

Patrick sighed, but didn’t argue. He left the table and ran into a crowd of children.

John lifted James and sat him on the ground near the table along with several toys. “I’ll get us some coffee soon, but I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Talk to me? About what?” he asked suspiciously.

Running his hand through already messy hair, John’s expression turned sheepish. Rodney could see the struggle John was having to even begin. “Patrick told me you referred to physics when you advised him earlier. Are you versed in the sciences?”

Rodney was still cataloging differences between his John and this one, and the major thing he’d noted so far was an odd formality of speech. He’d been hearing conversations all around him and it seemed that everyone spoke with that formality. It took him a moment to answer as he got caught up in comparing his John to this one.

“Actually, I am well versed in a number of sciences,” Rodney admitted, for once not going into details of his two PhD’s. They would be worthless here, and much of what he knew hadn’t been discovered yet. If he had time travelled into the past, he wanted to be very careful not to screw up the time line.

“Are you looking to settle in the area?” John inquired.

“I - - I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” he answered truthfully.

John wasn’t in the habit of discussing his problems with anyone, let alone a stranger. The only person he talked to about anything personal was Sabina. But, he trusted Rodney. John wasn’t usually given to self-reflection and he didn’t stop now to consider why he would trust Rodney on such short acquaintance. “My in-laws are pressuring me to put Patrick into boarding school. They are dissatisfied with our school. Oak Tree Manor was meant to be a summer home only, but Patrick’s doctor felt the country air would be better for his health,” John explained.

“Has it been better?” Rodney demanded. He might have just met Patrick, but he was already invested in the boy.

John nodded. “He’s thriving here. I really don’t want to uproot him, and I have no desire for him to grow up like his mother’s brothers did.”

Rodney knew there were many things being left unsaid here. His tone and choice of words made that clear. “So, what would you want me to do?”

“I thought you could give him lessons. You could stay in the Manor, and a salary would also be provided,” John offered. Sly eyes found Rodney’s. “And meals cooked by Sabina…”

“That’s quite an incentive. I’m going to need some time to think about this,” Rodney requested.

“Take whatever time you need.” John took two clean mugs and went to go get coffee.

When he returned, Rodney splashed fresh cream in the mug, inhaling the rich aroma of the brew. He drank deeply, relishing the slight bitterness of the coffee and the sweetness of the cream.

The two men drank in companionable silence, watching James dig in the dirt with a small shovel. Unlike Patrick who resembled John, James had light brown hair and clear blue eyes. His face was cherubic, an open book that revealed his every emotion. “James favors his mother,” John commented.

At hearing his name, the child looked up at his father. “Cake?” he asked hopefully.

Realizing he hadn’t heard James say anything all day, he wondered how old the boy was and asked.

“He just turned two last month and Patrick will be eight in December.” Holding his arms out, James teetered into them, giggling. “My little man wants cake?”

“Cake, Poppa?” James asked again.

Cutting one of the large slices in half, John presented the cake to James who immediately thrust a small hand into it and lifted it to his mouth. As the entire handful couldn’t fit into his mouth, much of it was spread across his face, although judging by the wide grin, James didn’t mind.

Patrick came running up to the table jumping up and down, begging John to join the potato sack and three-legged races with him. Smiling indulgently, John handed him a slice of cake. “If Mr. McKay will consent to watch James, I’ll be happy to enter the races with you.”

“Please, Mr. McKay. Please,” Patrick begged around a mouthful of cake.

Rodney had snagged his own piece of cake and at the first taste closed his eyes and moaned. The frosting was dark, bittersweet chocolate, and Rodney couldn’t remember the last time he’d tasted something so delicious and decadent.

It was really unfair Rodney thought bitterly a short time later, when James was a sleepy weight in his arms. He would have agreed to anything when eating Sabina’s cake. John had changed James and had cleaned his hands and face as best he could with James fighting him every step of the way. What chocolate John had missed now graced Rodney’s shirt.

He stood on the sidelines with the rest of the townspeople not entered in the race, holding James, and cheering as best he could. Both John and Patrick finished the potato sack race somewhere in the middle, and came in a respectable fourth in the three-legged race.

The three-legged race signaled the end of the festivities for Founder’s Day. There would be a dance held at the Mayor’s home later in the evening. John found Rodney, and took a sleeping James from his arms. “Will you be attending the dance?”

“No. I’ve got to be going. I, ah, I, need to be somewhere. But, I’ll be back to let you . . . To let you know, about the offer,” Rodney stuttered. He was reluctant to say yes until he knew just what was going on.

John slipped a calling card out of his pocket and, handing Rodney the card, he said, “The Manor is on Pinecrest Drive, south of Main Street. You’re welcome any time.”

John and the boys left for their home, while Rodney watched them walk away. And no one would ever guess just what it cost him to let them walk away.

When they were out of sight, Rodney walked into the tree line and retrieved the chip from his pocket. Holding on to it tightly, the strange shimmering began, and Rodney was back in his quarters on Atlantis.

### Atlantis

Wondering how long he’d been gone, Rodney glanced again at the clock and was shocked to see that less than five minutes had passed since he’d last seen it. He hadn’t noticed the exact time he began his impromptu journey, and he made a metal note to keep track of that in the future. He also thought to check the date, mind already scrambling to come up with an excuse if it turned out he’d been gone for not only minutes, but also days. Relieved to find it was the same day, Rodney sat to think for a few minutes.

Intellectually, Rodney knew that according to Atlantis time, he’d only just come out of a shower and dressed, but he could feel the dried sweat on his body and when he looked down, his previously clean shirt was streaked with dried chocolate.

He removed the shirt and sniffed at the stains, flicking out his tongue to briefly savor the bittersweet frosting once again. Although he’d ruled out virtual reality sometime during the long afternoon he’d spent in Hastings-on-Hudson, the stains on his shirt clinched it for him. Virtual reality didn’t leave physical traces behind.

Rodney considered canceling dinner with Teyla and Ronon, but thought better of that idea when he realized he couldn’t cancel without raising suspicions. Sighing, he jumped into the shower again, redressed quickly, and reluctantly put aside the mystery of the chip for the moment. He was more than a little tempted to lie down for awhile as the events of the day caught up with him. Thinking he’d end up falling asleep, he instead picked up his tablet and began recording his recent experience.

~*~

If McKay was distracted during dinner and had little appetite, it was no different than what Teyla, Ronon, and Radek had gotten used over the last weeks. They knew he was grieving and tried to give him the space to do so, but they expected Rodney to eat with them. They had all insisted he eat dinner with them tonight. They usually settled for breakfast, not wanting to interrupt his day for lunch. They understood and respected his need to keep busy during the day. Sharing meals was one way to stay connected to Rodney, and it comforted them as well.

Rodney was counting on their expectation that he would be distracted. It wouldn’t do for any of them to get suspicious. And they would; they all knew him too well. He was in a frenzy to start searching the database to look for information about the discs. He needed to know what they were and if they had limitations. He was also anxious to get back to the device that had given him the gift of today; a day spent with John Sheppard.

Mostly, he was making plans to visit John Sheppard again.

~*~

If Connors was surprised at Rodney’s mood the next morning, he kept it to himself. The scientist veered from near giddiness one moment to raging anger the next to obvious sadness to normalcy. He’d had to excuse himself twice before noon and when he returned, Connors said nothing about his reddened eyes. Dr. Weir had briefed him about the volatile scientist and his goal, and he had agreed to babysit because he empathized with McKay’s grief, and he thought it would be a good opportunity to perhaps experience the wonders that Atlantis held first hand.

Connors had heard all the rumors about McKay and Sheppard, and though Dr. Weir had been diplomatic, her worry about Rodney came through quite clearly. He hoped that finding new technology would help the scientist heal and that he would have a small part in that. He had admired Colonel Sheppard, although he hadn’t known his commanding officer well. Connors had only been on Atlantis for a year and the few occasions he’d had to speak personally with the Colonel had been brief. So Ryan tagged after the Colonel’s lover, determined to protect and help him.

They went back to the Western arm of the city and Rodney picked a building at random. “Until we can figure out where the city plans are stashed on the database, it’s a crap shoot,” he remarked entering the building.

Rodney was a man torn. There were so many emotions battering him, he had actually broken down twice and his moods changed as each new emotion assaulted him. He went through the building, his mind only half on his task. He was busy berating himself, wondering what sort of man would be willing to think about another man when he’d just lost his lover. A man that looked just like his newly dead lover. It felt like a betrayal of John.

There was guilt for his happiness yesterday, and for the craving to go back to the past and insinuate himself into the Sheppard household. He knew himself well enough to know he was going back, but he worried that weeks or even years could be passing in the past and he’d go back to find an aged John Sheppard. He worried that the disc had a limited number of times it could be used and that he might get stuck in Atlantis - - or in the past.

He wanted to find a way to defeat the Wraith as a way to honor John’s memory and the task seemed insurmountable. And, he missed his lover so much there were moments he could barely breath.

They managed to get through two buildings by the end of the day. It was easy when they were totally empty. It was no more than Rodney expected, but it didn’t stop him from being disappointed. He knew a shiny new weapon wouldn’t be sitting out in the open just waiting for him, but he had hoped to find some leftovers.

When Connors escorted him back to his room, Rodney told him to meet him tomorrow at 10:00 A.M. He planned on dedicating part of each morning searching and organizing the databases. Work in that direction had been sporadic over the years; most anyone attempting it got frustrated and bored within weeks, and there was always, always, something else that took priority. Rodney felt that dedicating part of his day to database organization would eventually be the thing that led him to his goals. Exploring Atlantis was probably somewhat self-indulgent, but the wide-eyed boy that lived within insisted it might very well yield results.

A new routine was established. In the mornings, Rodney worked methodically on the database, imposing the beginning of order. The database was so huge, it could conceivable take years, but he was determined to make a start. In the seven years they’d been on Atlantis, no information on the Zeds had been found. Added to the difficulty, was that the database was written in Ancient. No one had yet figured out how to effect an automatic translation to English.

From mid-morning to early evening Rodney and Connors spent their time roaming in and out of mostly empty buildings. They did make a few interesting discoveries. In an empty city the size of Manhattan, it would be nearly impossible to never find anything of interest.

Over the next weeks they found a building that could have been a theater or a music hall, so good were the acoustics, and another with an enormous empty swimming pool, and other gym equipment. They found a building filled with huge rooms, suffused with light, and half finished canvases sitting alongside dried paints.

The social scientists were going crazy. They had always known that before the obsession with ascension had overtaken the Ancients, they must have indulged in other pursuits. Playing with weapons and hard science was all very good and expected, but so were art and music and dance. It seemed impossible to think otherwise when all one had do was look at what they had left behind, Atlantis included. With few exceptions, the objects weren’t just utilitarian or functional; they were also elegant and beautiful, combining function with form.

Rodney held out for a nearly a month before he used the disc again. He had locked up the box in his safe, and was tempted every day when he returned to his quarters, but his guilt kept him from giving into the temptation.

He showered and changed, donning jeans and a white button down shirt. He’d borrowed a pair of suspenders several days ago, thinking they might help him fit in better. He unlocked the safe and retrieved the disc that was still glowing and relocked it. He took the time to write down the time on a small slip of paper that he left on his desk.

He gripped the disc tightly and closed his eyes.

### Hastings-On-Hudson, July, 1880

Rodney stood at the start of a long pathway leading up to a large house. A small sign, nailed to an oak tree, read ‘Oak Tree Manor’. The house was well named Rodney thought. To his untrained eyes, the house looked like something from out of ‘Gone With The Wind’, all white and columned, and imposing. Well off toward the side and back was an elegant carriage house and stables.

Surrounding the home and outbuildings on both sides and the rear were mature oak tress. The line of oaks in the rear of the house started well back and a lush lawn led to the front of the house, broken up by a wide dirt pathway. As Rodney neared the house, he could see just how big it was. He found it hard to believe the John he had met could live here.

He was sure there were protocols in place as to whether he should go to the front door, the side door he could see, or the back door he was sure existed, but he was damned if he knew what that protocol was. Taking his chances, he headed for the side door, and knocked firmly.

A middle-aged woman came to the door immediately. “Yes? Can I help you?” she asked, an Irish brogue barely discernable. She had deep laugh lines around her hazel eyes.

“Um, I’m here to see John Sheppard,” Rodney said uncertainly.

“One moment,” she requested and retreated further into the house.

Feeling foolish, Rodney shifted from foot to foot. “Rodney! Come in,” John said happily, opening the door to allow him entrance.

Rodney stepped into the cool darkness of a large, comfortable kitchen, dominated by a huge, scarred wooden table. The chairs matched the table and had thick cushions tied on to them. A big, complicated black stove with a door on the bottom and a flat cooking surface took up most of one wall. There was a sink that looked like it had running water, and a cabinet that Rodney could see was an ice box as the woman who answered the door was removing a glass bottle of milk.

Rodney hoped it was for the coffee he could smell. The woman reached into one of the cabinets above her head and that lined the entire kitchen to take down two largish mugs, which she placed in front of Rodney and John.

“Rodney, I’d like you to meet Sabina Barrett, my…” John began before he was rudely cut off.

“I’m Mr. Sheppard’s housekeeper,” Sabina blurted.

Rodney looked her over, liking her brash attitude. She certainly didn’t act like a servant, and he was glad. He had no idea how to treat a servant. He took in her neat blue floor length dress covered by a frilly snow-white apron. Her once bright blonde hair was now faded to a honey gold, and held back in a neat bun. She was small and slender and Rodney wondered why she wasn’t gracing some man’s home.

“Are you the person who made the chocolate cake I ate for Founder’s Day?”

“Yes, of course,” she answered, somewhat confused by the question in the midst of introductions.

“Well, you can call yourself a housekeeper or whatever else you want to, I’ll stick with goddess,” Rodney said in all sincerity. The one social grace Rodney had managed to learn was to lavishly compliment a good cook; it was a sure way to keep himself supplied in tasty goodies and it made up for many of his shortcomings, thereby preventing poisoning by lemon.

Loud laugher greeted this remark, as Sabina blushed. “I’ve been trying to tell her that for years, but she refuses to believe me,” John commented to Rodney once he’d stopped laughing.

“Oh, you,” Sabina said, lightly cuffing the back of John’s head. It was apparent to both men that she was pleased with the complimentary byplay. “I think it’s going to be a pleasure to cook for you…”

Rodney stuck his hand out. “Doctor Meredith Rodney McKay,” he supplied.

“Can I get you some more coffee, Doctor McKay?” she asked, noticing that Rodney had already drank his mug dry.

“Um, sure, but you can call me Rodney,” he offered, hoping she would do so.

She poured him a cup and topped off John’s cup. “I’ll see to the boys,” she informed the men.

“So, Rodney, are you here to take me up on my offer?” John asked.

Rodney knew he should say no. He knew he should thank John for the coffee, get up and go back to Atlantis and destroy the disc, or turn it over to Radek, but he couldn’t. “Sure. But, I’ll have to leave in a few weeks to take care of some business.”

“That’ll be fine. Will you be staying here?”

“That _is_ included, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is, but I didn’t see a trunk. Oh, and your salary is twenty-five dollars a week.”

Rodney was proud that he didn’t choke on his coffee. He had no idea how twenty-five dollars would translate in the 21st century, and he didn’t particularly care. “I, uh, I tend to travel light. Is it possible for me to pick up a few things in town?”

“We’ll go after breakfast, but you’ll have to be quick. Today may only be July 3rd, but the shops will be closing up at noon today to get a start on the celebrating. There’ll be fireworks tonight as well as tomorrow,” John said proudly. He and a few of the wealthier men in town had insured that the town would have a full weekend of celebrations by purchasing a large supply of fireworks.

“I can do quick.” Rodney said.

~*~

Tutoring Patrick was put off until Monday in deference to the holiday. The town held another picnic, but the Sheppard’s set up a table on the large backyard lawn, where Sabina was free to sit and eat with the family. The meal was just as good as the first picnic Rodney had eaten with the family, as was every other meal she prepared.

Rodney was glad not to have to interact with anyone else; the Sheppard’s and Sabina were inclined to overlook the many missteps he made. Every conversation was fraught with difficulties for Rodney; he knew little to nothing of recent history, or of current popular culture. He’d slipped up once or twice by mentioning something that didn’t yet exist, and besides an odd look from John, was ignored.

In between feeds, Sabina was busy with household chores or taking care of James, and Patrick was busy climbing trees, running around, or inventing games. That left plenty of free time for Rodney and John to talk.

Rodney was not one to bare his soul despite the fact that he frequently babbled nonstop. He usually didn’t care about anything beyond someone’s intellectual credentials, but he found himself wanting to know every detail that made up John Sheppard’s life.

No detail was too small or inconsequential. He asked dozens of questions and encouraged a reluctant John to talk and talk. By the end of the weekend, Rodney knew quite a lot about John. He knew about his childhood and his tenure at West Point and his experiences as a young officer in the Civil War and about his unhappy marriage. John said little beyond that his marriage wasn’t what he expected and Rodney had to fill in some of the details, but it hadn’t been hard for him to conclude it was a mistake and that John had been miserable.

They discussed what Rodney would be teaching Patrick and John told him about working for his father-in-law, keeping the books for his thriving and prosperous import and export business. Before the move to Hastings-On-Hudson, he had been more active in the business, but felt accounting was more suited to his skills. Again, John didn’t say much, but Rodney could hear that he wasn’t thrilled with his work situation. When he got John to admit how much he liked math and wished he had been able to study it further, he offered to tutor him several hours a week in higher mathematics.

John accepted the offer eagerly, and when Rodney realized how much he was looking forward to spending time with John, he knew he was in trouble. Sabina saw the two men with their heads close and deeply engaged in conversation all weekend and shuddered. She feared her tainted past and blood was reaching out to destroy the future.

~*~

Tutoring Patrick was more satisfying than Rodney thought it would be. He didn’t really care for children, but he hadn’t been around many of them for any extended period of time, with the exception of his niece, Madison. Patrick had a quick mind, and he caught on to concepts very quickly. The only problem Rodney encountered was his that he had to lower his expectations to account for Patrick’s limited attention span.

Rodney had no idea if it was abnormal or if all seven-year-old boys had difficulty maintaining an interest in anything past thirty minutes. He tried to remember himself at that age and couldn’t. He just made sure to keep moving on to the next subject. John only expected three hours of tutoring per day, Monday through Thursday, and it was easy enough to plan lessons for such short periods of time.

The rest of the day belonged to Rodney. If John wasn’t home, he took long walks once the heat of the day passed, visiting the small village and the few stores that lined Main Street. John had advanced him two weeks salary and he had bought several articles of clothing, but he still had money left over. There was nothing he needed, so he spent his money on small gifts for Patrick, James, and Sabina, carefully checking his change for interesting coins. He figured he’d bring them back to Atlantis. There were several people who collected coins and might appreciate them. He planned to say that they were picked up on his last visit to Earth and forgotten until he stumbled upon them.

When not in the village, Rodney walked John’s large property. It was cool beneath the trees, and by the Hudson River, which backed part of the property. He found a peace in the quiet, slow days that he had never known before. When he tired of walking, he spent time in the kitchen, helping Sabina cook or watching the boys. They often sat with a cold glass of tea or coffee talking about a wide variety of topics. Rodney was surprised at her intelligence, again wondering why she was a housekeeper.

John left early for his job in Manhattan two or three days a week, but was always back in time for diner. On the days he was home, he would join Rodney in the large room that had been converted into a schoolroom after Patrick’s lessons, and Rodney would teach him advanced math. Like the Sheppard that had lived in the future, this John was a brilliant, natural mathematician. He caught onto concepts immediately, often extrapolating the next several steps. It was a joy to work with him. After a few hours of work, he would join Rodney on his walks to the village or on his property.

After dinner, John would spend time with the children, Rodney frequently joining them. Once the children were put to bed, they would play chess or cards or a board game called The Checkered Game of Life that Rodney recognized as an early version of Life. Once a week, John would haul out his golf clubs and practice his swings. And, every night after Sabina retired for the night, and long after the boys were sleeping, they would go to the music room and share a Scotch or a Brandy and then Rodney would play the perfectly tuned baby grand. Sometimes he played low enough to engage in conversation, and other nights, he became lost in the music.

One night when he had been in Hastings-On-Hudson for nearly two weeks, and feeling guilty about not being on Atlantis, his fingers picked out a tune and he began softly singing, his mind literally billions of miles away. It was a song John had often sung to him, ‘I Walk The Line’, and when he realized what he was singing, Rodney knew it was time to go home.

He turned and saw John’s face after he’d finished the song. “What?” he demanded.

“Is that new music? It’s - - it’s wonderful,” John said, his eyes shining.

Grinning, Rodney was struck by the similarities between his lover and the man sitting near the piano. “It’s ah, it was written by a friend of mine, someone named Johnny Cash,” Rodney said.

“Is there more?” John requested.

And Rodney spent the rest of the night playing music from a world that did not yet exist.

~*~

John was disappointed when Rodney told him he was leaving in a day or two and wouldn’t be back for at least two weeks and as many as three. He didn’t say anything though, and sent Rodney off with the best smile he could.

### Atlantis

Rodney immediately checked the time when he was returned to his quarters. He was relieved to see only one minute had passed. Checking the date, he was happy to note it was the same date on which he left.

It was late evening, Atlantis time, and usually Rodney would be settling down to watch a movie or an episode of Doctor Who before going to sleep, but sleep was the last thing on his mind right now. He’d left 1880 shortly after dinner, and bedtime was hours away. He decided to write up his most recent experiences and then do a little work on the database. If he slept in the next morning, no one would be any the wiser.

He got little work done, as his mind wandered over and over the past he’d just come from, and the nature of the technology that had given him this gift.

~*~

Over the next week, Rodney approached searching the city with resignation. He tried putting Hastings-On-Hudson and the Sheppard family out of his mind, which proved to be difficult. He and Connors made a major discovery toward the end of the week and that helped.

There was an unusually squat, roundish building toward the center of the Western arm of the city, and Rodney entered it because it was so different than the type of architecture the Ancients seemed to favor. Each floor of the fifteen-story building was identical. A large round room, with a round work area in the center of otherwise bare space was found. The walls were lined with hundreds and hundreds of small safes, accessed by those with the ATA gene.

In each safe, seeds were found. They were loosely grouped by planet, and then by edible plants, trees and flowers, and all their numerous variations, and then by inedible plants, trees, and flowers. In each safe was a description of what seeds it held, where it was found, and how to grow it. A drawing of each plant, tree, or flower in its various stages of development was provided, as was success or failure for each seed in the laboratory environment, and on various planets where the seeds were not native.

It wasn’t until the eighth floor and the discovery of numerous green coffee beans that Rodney called for the botanists explaining what he had found. Within thirty minutes, every botanist and agriculturist on the city descended on the building, all of them nearly hysterical with excitement.

Rodney grabbed Parrish and charged him with protecting the coffee beans. When he had opened twenty or so of the little safes, and then slowly turned around, and saw hundreds more, he grabbed Rodney and planted an enthusiastic, closed mouthed kiss on him.

Sputtering as he wiped his mouth, Rodney muttered darkly about having a word with Lorne, while Parrish laughed.

The scientists who had overrun the building asked for and received permission to set up shop in the building, and also got permission to take over a nearby residential building. Elizabeth promised she would come and see the find once they had the labs set up and online.

That night, the botanists and agriculturists threw a party for the expedition, with Rodney being toasted as the man of the hour. If he was at all surprised by the accolades that came his way, it was nothing compared to his surprise when, a few weeks later Parrish figured out that several devices found on the top floor of the seed repository, significantly accelerated plant growth, and another party was thrown.

Two nights after the Rodney found the repository, he woke up in the small hours of the night, shaking and sweating. He’d dreamed that Patrick had fallen out of a tree, and was lying under it with a split skull, dying. When he got himself under control, getting back to sleep wasn’t possible.

Rodney showered and then stood out on his balcony watching the stars. For the first time since he’d been on Atlantis, he missed the stars of the Milky Way. Even knowing that the double life he was leading was ripping him apart wasn’t enough to dissuade Rodney from aching to be back in Hastings-On-Hudson.

Almost without thought, Rodney left the balcony, pausing only long enough to grab both his and John’s jewels. He spent the next several hours in his lab, undisturbed. When he returned to his quarters, he carefully packed his knapsack and left it in the closet.

He lasted nearly three weeks before he went back to the past and John Sheppard.

### Hastings-On-Hudson, August, 1880

Rodney quickly checked his backpack to make sure everything had arrived with him. As had happened the last time, he appeared very close to the Manor and walked the short distance to the house. Making his way to the side of the house, he heard voices raised in what seemed to be an ongoing argument if John’s weary tone were any indication.

“And I’m telling you, Sabina, I don’t care if anyone knows.”

“Think, John. What will happen to the boys if anyone finds out that you are my nephew and that I am Pavee?” Sabina asked, panic clear in her voice.

“You forget that this isn’t the old country. And anyone who would reject my sons based on their ancestry isn’t worth knowing,” John explained once again.

“Pah! For a smart man, you are very stupid. For people like your in-laws, such things always matter. Why else would Virginia have hidden the truth from them until _after_ you were married?” she spit.

Rodney was now able to see into the house, through the open door. John and Sabina, seated at the table, were so intent on their conversation neither of them noticed him.

John’s hands scrubbed at his face. The Palmer’s had certainly never forgiven John’s ‘base roots’, nor had they ever let him forget. John disliked being reminded of Virginia Rose, his late wife.

Still reeling from the Battle of Spottsylvania, and surprised to find himself alive when so many of his men had died, John had also been shocked to find he was famous. As the second in command of the notorious Irish Brigade in the Amy of the Potomac, he was sought after and feted once he recovered from his wounds. It was just about the time he decided he was going back home when he met Virginia Rose Palmer. With the precision of an Army General, she lay siege to John, seducing him one drunken night, excited by his notoriety, the challenge of his standoffish attitude, and his good looks.

It was hard to say which one of them was angrier when she became pregnant from their brief encounter. Virginia, the spoiled and pampered debutant daughter of a wealthy family was mortified at having to marry so far beneath her social class. She hadn’t dared tell her father that John had confessed that his mother had been an Irish Traveler for fear that he would kill him, and she would be ruined. A base ancestry could be hidden, a pregnancy could not. When the pregnancy ended in miscarriage shortly after they married, Virginia became angry and bitter.

John had never expected to marry, his proclivities running to a different direction entirely. He could count the number of times he’d touched Virginia during their marriage. She had been all coy smiles that held the promise of passion when she was chasing him, but didn’t care for the reality of physical intimacy. She had played her games with boys and had never gotten burnt; she hadn’t thought there was any difference between those cultured boys and a war hardened John. If she hadn’t been so cold, John would have questioned if Patrick and James were his.

Pulling his thoughts out of the past, John answered Sabina. “I’ve never purposely hidden the fact that my mother was a Traveler, Sabina. It didn’t matter at West Point, and it certainly didn’t matter on the battlefield.”

Sabina stoked her hand through John’s hair. “Maybe not, mo lʹibis, but it does matter in society. And you must think of Patrick and James and their future.”

“I am thinking of them. Doctor McKay will help provide them with an education, and they will make their way in the world despite what anyone may think of their roots. And I’ll be damned if I send them to boarding school just so they can make the right sort of friends,” John stated. It was the main reason his own father had insisted he attend West Point.

With a sly look in her eye, Sabina’s lips turned upward in a small grin. “Oh, and is that the only reason Doctor McKay is here, my wee midril?”

Rodney choked when he heard that, alerting them to his presence, and John chose to ignore his aunt’s statement, even as she paled and clutched his arm.

Looking sheepish, Rodney entered the house. Amused, John asked, “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know that Sabina is your aunt,” Rodney answered truthfully.

Sabina let go of John’s arm to grab at Rodney’s arm. “Please, Doctor McKay, for the sake of the boys, you can’t say anything.”

“Relax, Sabina. I don’t understand, but I would never do anything to hurt the boys,” Rodney reassured her.

“Sabina, Doctor McKay and I will be in the music room. He and I have a few things to discuss,” John said, rising.

Rodney sat of one of the small couches, admiring the room. Usually he was too entranced by the music and John’s presence to notice the beauty of the room, or the view from the French doors. “I meant it, John. I won’t say anything to anyone.”

“I know, Rodney. I wouldn’t care if you did, though. I love Sabina, and I’m tired of hiding the fact that she’s my aunt.” John responded. “That’s not what I want to talk to about. I wanted to discuss Patrick’s progress with you. My late wife’s parents are once again pressuring me into putting him into boarding school,” John explained bleakly.

“Why the hell would they have any say about Patrick’s education? As long as he’s getting one, how is this any of their business?” Rodney demanded.

“It’s not any of their business, except for the fact that they have money. A lot of money. Should they decide to pursue this legally, I’m afraid they’d try and take the boys from me,’ John said, nothing giving away the fear he was feeling.

Rodney muttered something unintelligible to himself, distressed. “So, it’s a matter of what? Having more money than them?” he questioned.

Laughing bitterly, John replied, “Isn’t it always about who has more?”

“Well, if it’s just a matter of being richer, I can help. Digging into his bag, he pulled out a pad and a pen, not seeing John’s fascination with both items. He wrote furiously for a few minutes, then ripped the page from the pad, handing it to John.

John read Rodney’s scrawl. “What is this?”

“A list of inventors and inventions that will be hitting the market within the next five years. I promise you’ll have so much money, you’ll be able to fight off any legal action,” Rodney answered smugly.

“Rodney,” John hesitated, not wanting to insult him, “It takes years to see a return from such investments.”

“Not for these inventions. Find out how much money it would take for you to receive five or ten percent of the returns and you’ll be rolling in money within months,” he promised again. “Oh, and land. Any property in Manhattan is a good investment. Or - - or Hawaii. No, scratch that. Are you allowed to buy land in Hawaii now? Well, we can find out.” Rodney blurted, not really taking into account the possible reaction his words may have.

“Rodney! Slow down. What are you talking about and how do you know these things?” John demanded.

“I . . . I,” Rodney began and stopped, replaying what he’d just said. “I can’t tell you, you just have to trust me.”

“I do trust you, McKay, but you also have to trust me. Whatever it is you’re hiding, I promise you, it’ll stay between the two of us,” John said looking right into Rodney’s eyes.

Rodney read the sincerity in John’s eyes. “You won’t believe me. It’s more likely you’ll throw me out of the house.”

“Rodney,” John whined.

“No, really, John, you’ll think I’m crazy and incapable of tutoring Patrick,” Rodney insisted.

“If it’s because you’re not really Canadian, I already know,” John was just as insistent.

Rodney couldn’t help himself; John’s comment was so inane he started to laugh. When he caught his breath, he decided to tell John the truth. “Okay, stop pouting. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. I am from Canada, but not yet . . .” he began.

Twenty minutes later, Rodney had laid out the bare bones of the future and the nature of his work with the Stargate Program and on Atlantis. He didn’t get into any scientific explanations, feeling that John wasn’t anywhere near ready to hear them.

Rodney then pulled the disc from his pocket and explained how he came to be in the past. When John reached for the device, Rodney pulled it away. “Don’t touch it! I really don’t know what would happen if you did,” he said fearfully.

When Rodney was done with his explanations he didn’t bother to tell John not to say anything to anyone; who could he tell that would believe such a story? Rodney saw the blank look on John’s face, a sure sign he was trying to contain his anger. It was obvious to Rodney that John thought he was being lied to. He lifted the tags off his neck and handed them to John.

He looked at them, his finger softly tracing Rodney’s name and his own. “John Sheppard was your . . .” John started to ask.

“He was my lover,” came the swift answer. “And before I stumbled into the past, I wasn’t sure I wanted to live after he was killed,” he confessed.

Rooting around in his knapsack once again, Rodney withdrew and unfolded the transparent, flexible tablet, and turned it on. He opened a photo album and various views of Atlantis appeared on the screen. Photos of various members of the expedition came up next, and Rodney identified them, telling John who they were and what they did on Atlantis. The last few showed photos of Ronon and Teyla, and then him and John.

When John saw the photos of Sheppard, a shadow briefly crossed his face, and he shuddered before composing himself. It happened so quickly that Rodney was sure no one else would have noticed.

Wanting to distract John, he opened his music files and played “I’ve Been Everywhere” by Johnny Cash, and watched as John’s eyes widened, and he smiled a smile of pure joy. “I don’t recognize some of the places he’s singing about.”

“That’s because some of them probably don’t exist yet. How many states are there now?”

“Thirty-eight. Colorado was granted statehood four years ago.”

“Ah, well, there’s fifty where I come from, or there will be,” Rodney smirked.

“And who is singing?”

“Johnny Cash.”

“Didn’t you play some of his music for me the last time you were here? This sounds different somehow,” John observed.

“Yes, well, I’m a classically trained pianist. It’s not so easy translating lowbrow county music, you know,” Rodney griped.

Laughing delightedly, John demanded, “Tell me more. Tell me everything.”

And for the rest of the day, and into the early hours of the morning, while the music of the future played in the background, Rodney talked about war, and peace, and entertainment, and new technologies, and the rise and fall of governments, and about the beauty of physics and math, and a hundred other things, both large and small. He spoke eloquently of Atlantis, and John could hear his love for the city clearly. They broke for lunch and then for dinner and John imposed upon Sabina to take care of the boys.

It was coming up on 3 A.M. and Rodney felt himself falling asleep. But John was not done questioning him. “Hold on. I’ve got another tablet that has a few games you might like,” Rodney said, reaching into a zippered compartment of the knapsack.

He pulled out the hard case holding John’s tablet. Soon after they had found the tablets, Rodney had programmed several games into John’s. In one of the games, the player had the choice of a dozen different aircraft flying in a variety of environments, each level further challenging the players’ flying skills. John had thanked Rodney for two weeks with surprise blowjobs all over Atlantis. Rodney figured if his lover had been happy with the game, John would be blown away.

Clumsy with exhaustion, he nearly dropped the case. John’s reflexes, always keen, were as sharp as if he’d just had a restful eight hours of sleep. He had the case opened, and the tablet unfolded quickly. Rodney was just about to tell him to wait for him to turn the tablet on when the game menu appeared.

Hiding his shock, he rasped, “It’s controlled by thought.”

John immediately found the flying game and was soon deeply engrossed, sending an F-86 Sabre soaring across a deep blue sky. Rodney watched him carefully, pondering this new puzzle. Barring clones, the only two people who should be able to turn on either of the tablets were him and Sheppard. That John had been able to, strongly indicated the two men were genetically very similar, if not identical. He’d also done it instinctively and without thought.

Rodney fell asleep wondering if John’s reaction to the photos of Sheppard had been the shock of seeing his face on a man that hadn’t yet been born, or if was something deeper.

~*~

Rodney was alone when he awoke, the tantalizing aroma of Sabina’s strong, rich coffee dragging him from slumber. He was covered with a light blanket and the case for John’s tablet lay beneath his own folded tablet. A note with the words ‘Thank you!’ was propped up. Rodney stretched, put his stuff back in his knapsack, and went in search of coffee and food.

Bustling around the kitchen humming happily to herself, Sabina took in Rodney’s wrinkled clothing and messy hair. John had warned her that he might sleep late. Knowing Rodney was nearly incoherent without a cup or two of coffee in him, she merely pointed at a seat and went to get Rodney a large mug of her special blend. She put it in front of him without a word and waited while he inhaled at least half a cup. She topped off his mug and started frying up ham and eggs for his breakfast.

Rodney was feeling more human by the time Sabina place the overflowing plate in front of him. She sat at the table now that there was no need to keep up the pretense that she was a servant.

Rodney had dug in and was enjoying his meal. Sabina always felt gratified when any of her meals were eaten with such obvious enjoyment. “How come you don’t care about John’s ancestry? I’ve yet to meet anyone who accepted it so easily.”

“In case you haven’t me heard me say it before; I’m a genius, and I’m smart enough to know that someone’s ancestry is completely meaningless,” Rodney stopped eating to answer her.

She needed to make sure. “And you won’t say anything to anyone?” she asked, her voice shaking only slightly.

Rodney was about to give her a flip answer when he stopped to really take in her appearance. She looked tired and her faded blonde hair was escaping its bun. Her face was paler than her usual delicate rose-tinged color, and she looked drawn, her hazel eyes huge, and frightened. “Believe me when I tell you, I would never do anything to hurt you, John, or the boys,” he said softly. “But you must know that it hurts John to deny you.”

“Better that then anyone find out the truth. It’s hard enough just being Irish in this country,” she commented dryly.

Rodney wasn’t American, but he’d spent enough time in the States to know that every wave of new immigrants had faced prejudice before they were able to establish themselves. “So, how did you end up here? I’ve always heard that the Irish Travelers didn’t mix with anyone.”

Sabina sighed. “That’s true, Doctor McKay. John’s father, Sean, came from a wealthy family. They were landowners and allowed us to bide for a few months every year.” She sipped at her own mug of coffee, relishing the warmth despite the rising heat of the day.

“He was out riding when he met my sister, Maire. They fell in love in a matter of weeks. Neither Sean’s father, nor mine, would have allowed them to marry, so they made plans to elope. Maire was only sixteen and afraid - - so, she asked me to go with her,” Sabina explained, her hands worrying a cloth napkin.

“And you didn’t try to talk her out of leaving? It seems, I don’t know, rash?” Rodney questioned.

“I had my own reasons for wanting to leave, Doctor McKay. My father had just arranged a marriage for me to a man that I despised,” she spit out with bitterness, not mentioning the assault she had suffered through at the hands of the man her father had chosen.

“That doesn’t explain how you ended up pretending to be John’s cook. He told me you raised him, but it sounded like you were his nanny or something,” Rodney said bluntly. He didn’t realize that in this time and place, such curiosity was considered rude.

Sabina answered because she felt she had no choice. It was difficult for her to talk about such private matters, but she wanted to make sure Rodney would keep their secret.

“When we got to New York, it didn’t matter that Sean had money in his pocket. He was hated just because he was Irish, and he had a difficult time accepting that. By the time John was born he was determined that his son would never suffer the indignities he had,” Sabina said.

Fondling the napkin, her gaze focused on the past, she continued. “Sean opened a bar and was doing well for himself. By the time Maire died, he was doing very, very well. You must understand, Doctor McKay, even among the Irish, the Travelers are hated and looked down upon. Sean didn’t want anyone to know I was John’s aunt lest it taint John’s chances to make something of himself, so I was given the choice to either act as his servant or leave,” Sabina stated as dispassionately as possible.

“So you stayed to raise John,” Rodney concluded.

“Yes. And I stayed on when John went to West Point, and then when he went to war. I had nowhere else to go. Sean was bitter, and had become ill. He died about a month before John married, and John was kind enough to invite me into his household,” she said, refusing to look Rodney in the eye. “His wife insisted I continue the charade.”

“And now you’re continuing it for the sake of Patrick and James,” Rodney finished the line of her reasoning.

“I would do anything for those boys, Doctor McKay. I love them,” she said honestly.

“Except let them love you openly as their aunt,” he retorted. “What if John had enough money to cover his Irish? Would you stop this charade then?” he demanded.

“I don’t know that there is enough money in the world for that, Doctor McKay. And even if there were, John doesn’t have that sort of money,” Sabina replied with dignity.

“He will if I have anything to say about it,” Rodney said distractedly. He was busy chastising himself. He’d been looking at the past through a haze of nostalgia, rather than his usual cynicism. Prejudice hadn’t yet been conquered in the future, and certainly was alive and well in the past. In his euphoria of being with John, he’d forgotten the power of the American dollar.

Seeing that Rodney was deeply engrossed in his thoughts, Sabina sighed and got up to refill his coffee cup yet again, and got on with her day.

Rodney finished his breakfast and washed up. Taking a piece of clean linen with him Rodney checked to make sure Sabina was occupied in another part of the house. He snuck into John’s room not bothering to take the time to look around. He entered the bathroom, found John’s brush and took several strands of hair from it. He happened to glance down and saw a small scrap of bloodied paper and took that as well, wrapping the hair and paper into a small bundle and stashing it in his knapsack.

~*~

Rodney again spent his time tutoring Patrick, and merging seamlessly into the household. He spent long summer nights with John in the music room playing whatever music came to mind. They also took to walking along the river, late at night, sometimes talking, but more often letting the sounds of summer wash over their silence.

And Rodney fell in love. Every day he fell a little harder, a little deeper. He tried fighting it, and then denying it as hard as he could. It worked for long stretches at a time. When it didn’t work, the guilt ate him alive, and then he would go back to denial. It pretty much sucked as a strategy, but it was all he had.

When Rodney had been in Hastings-On-Hudson for four weeks, he knew he had to start thinking of going home, but he put it off, finding some new excuse to delay his departure every day. When two more weeks had passed, Rodney could no longer put it off and he let John know at breakfast.

John nodded his head in agreement, and only Sabina saw the tightening around his mouth.

### Atlantis

Rodney jumped back into work as best he could. It was a difficult transition after being gone for six weeks. He’d lost his focus and it was apparent. When every building he and Connors searched over the next week proved to be empty, Rodney grew disheartened.

He was back to not sleeping, and haunting his lab and Atlantis in the middle of the night, when it was quiet and empty. On his third night back, he had snuck into one of the medical labs and tested the hair and blood he’d found in John’s bathroom. When they came back as an identical genetic match for Colonel Sheppard, Rodney wasn’t in the least bit surprised.

Working with the database wasn’t helping his focus or mood either. It was proving to be frustrating in the extreme. He’d managed to do a little work on it when he was in Hastings-On-Hudson, but the knowledge that he had to go back to Atlantis pushed his interest in other directions. The main problem from his perspective besides his lack of concentration, was that he had no insight whatsoever on how the Ancients thought.

It was the hope of gaining some insight into their thinking that prompted his request to gate back to Earth for two weeks. He absolutely needed to talk with Daniel and Sam. He thought he would take the opportunity to visit Jeannie as well. She’d been badgering him to spend some time with her. In the weekly data bursts, Rodney received long, chatty emails that did nothing to hide her worry and anxiety.

He informed Elizabeth, and plans were made to open a wormhole for him in two days time.

~*~

Rodney was warmly welcomed by both Daniel and Sam. They took his luggage and showed him to a VIP room. “We know you won’t be here long, but we wanted you to be comfortable,” Daniel explained.

“Thanks. I appreciate that. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to get started right away,” Rodney replied.

“Sure, by the way, here’s your flight information and tickets for Canada,” Sam said, handing him a slim envelope. “I just put on a pot of coffee, so I guess you’re stuck with me.” She laughed.

Rodney laid his tickets on the dresser and followed Sam to her lab. They spent the next three hours hypothesizing and rejecting theory after theory about how to access alternate realities.

“I just don’t see how anyone would be able to access an alternate reality without Naquadah, McKay. It would take an enormous amount of energy - - don’t forget the quantum mirror contains almost the same amount of Naquadah as the Stargate,” Sam stated as she shot down yet another theory.

“Do you think it’s possible to utilize zero point energy without the use of a ZedPM?” he asked, knowing it was impossible, but wanting to get a second opinion anyway.

“Why are you so interested in this, Rodney?” Sam finally asked.

“Just a stray line I read in the database. Truthfully, I’m not even sure I translated it correctly. And now I can’t even find the reference,” he answered.

“It helps to get some sleep, you know,” Sam said, resting a gentle hand on his arm. “How are you doing, really doing? And, please, don’t tell me fine.”

“I’m . . . coping. Some days are better than others and some days are horrible,” he admitted, unable to tell her that the horrible days only happened on Atlantis.

“If there’s anything I can do, I’m only a wormhole away, McKay,” she told him.

“Thanks, Sam,” he said rising. “I better get to Daniel. I have a feeling my questions for him are going to take a lot longer.”

~*~

Daniel had left a note for Rodney, telling him he’d be back within the hour. He’d thoughtfully included the time, so it gave the him time to retrieve his jewel from his quarters. When he’d packed for this trip, he had included the jewel thinking there might be some new movies he might want to bring back to Atlantis. He now took the opportunity to download as much history about the late 19th and early 20th century he could find on Daniel’s computer.

~*~

Rodney spent the rest of the day and most of the next one discussing the Ancients with Daniel. Rodney may have been the foremost expert on their technology, but Daniel was the only expert when it came to their motivations.

He listened intently as Daniel peeled back layers of mythology and legend to expose the core and the nuggets of truth that hid within. He related his previous experience with ascended beings, teasing out every strand of information that could possibly help Rodney. A few memories of Daniel’s time spent as an ascended being were also examined.

Jack showed up in the early afternoon of the next day and sat in on the conversation. He and Daniel now split their time between the SGC and Washington, DC. Daniel had made the trip to Colorado Springs expressly to meet with Rodney. Jack came just to make sure McKay was okay.

After listening to Daniel discuss the Ancients for a couple of hours, he stood and stretched. “The truth is the Ancients may have been technologically advanced, but they were also incredibly fucked up and no amount of analyzing them is going to help you figure out their motivations.”

“I’d suggest you try accessing the earlier part of the database, before ascension became such an obsession,” Daniel directed. “I think they were probably more organized at that point. Once they started to ascend, I doubt they were concerned with anything as mundane as orderly organization of their database.”

“Huh. We haven’t tried to organize it by date, we’ve been concentrating on subject organization,” Rodney informed them.

“Now that Daniel has solved yet another impossible puzzle, how about I take the both of you out to an early dinner? You’ve got three or four hours before your flight leaves,” Jack offered.

“Sounds good. I’ll just go get my bags.”

Jack escorted the two scientists out of the mountain and to a small intimate bistro not far from the airport. They ate a leisurely meal as Jack assured himself that Rodney was going to be fine.

~*~

Rodney spent ten days with Jeannie. The siblings spent a lot of time talking about everything except Atlantis. Rodney was able to talk about John, although Jeannie could see that it was still very painful for him. He still wore an aura of sadness around him and Jeannie did her best to make him laugh whenever possible. She chided herself for the silly premonition she’d had on Atlantis, happy that Meredith was in her guest bedroom, and that she now had the chance to take care of him properly.

Jeannie was glad that he looked healthier than the last time she had seen him, but it didn’t stop her from preparing healthy meals for him, and baking a variety of chocolate desserts. She had no way of knowing that good wholesome meals, cooked by Sabina, and long walks on John’s property accounted for it. He still seemed more emotionally fragile than she could ever remember, and that didn’t change in the time he spent with her.

Jeannie dragged out old and new photo albums, reminiscing about their joint past, and regaling her brother with stories about Madison. He’d been gone during most of his niece’s babyhood and he enjoyed hearing the stories. He loved Madison in a way that he had never expected to. He took her on a shopping spree, making up for missed birthdays and holidays. Along with books and educational games, he bought her toys and games and dolls. He ordered her an elaborate swing set and a custom playhouse.

When Jeannie complained and tried to rein in his generosity, he bleakly remarked, “Who else do I have to spend my money on?”

She relented after that, and let him do what he wanted when she saw it brought him a measure of happiness and peace.

~*~

Rodney hadn’t brought the disc with him, afraid it would be lost, damaged, or discovered. He had no idea if it would work if he was on Earth, and he had no way to find out. By the time his two weeks was up, he was anxious to get back to Atlantis.

He had been away from Hastings-On-Hudson for a little over three weeks and was anticipating getting back. When he returned to Atlantis, Elizabeth had planned a small welcome home dinner for Rodney. She invited Radek, Teyla, and Ronon, insisting that Rodney join them.

It turned out to be a pleasant evening, with no uncomfortable subjects brought up. Rodney related all the new SGC gossip and he gave out the small gifts he had bought for his friends. Teyla amused them with the tale of a disastrous wedding that had recently taken place among her people, in which both the bride and groom ended up covered head to toe in their feast, while Ronon paid tribute to a new ale he’d found on his last mission with Lorne’s team.

The food was good and Elizabeth had broken out two excellent bottles of wine. Radek got tipsy and sang some truly reprehensible and bawdy drinking songs, loosely translated from Czech to English, making them all laugh.

Rodney was the first to leave, claiming exhaustion. He fell into bed and slept for a few hours before waking and showering. He dressed quickly, donning a light jacket. It was still dark out when he retrieved the disc and clutched it tightly, closing his eyes.

### Hastings-On-Hudson, October, 1880

The air was crisp when Rodney arrived at the start of the path that led to John’s home. The sky was the deep blue of Autumn, and the leaves were a riot of color. It felt like the perfect fall days he could recall as a child. The day was on its way to warming up, but hadn’t quite gotten there yet. It was late morning and Rodney badly wanted a cup of coffee.

He trotted up the path, eagerly anticipating seeing John, and hoping this was one of his at home days. Rodney knocked briskly at the side door, and was let in by Sabina.

“Sit, Rodney,” she ordered, already reaching for the coffee. “John is in the village picking up a few things. He should be back shortly. Now, can I get you something to eat?” she asked.

“Just coffee for now. I’ll wait for John to eat,” he replied.

Sabina poured coffee for herself and they sat and chatted until John arrived home.

~*~

Since school had started days after Rodney had left last month, Patrick could no longer have his lessons in the mornings. Now that Rodney was back, he went to school in the morning and came home for lunch, and his lessons started soon after.

John and Rodney spent every moment they could together. In order to spend more time at home, John went into Manhattan once per week, bringing home the bulk of his work. As an added benefit, it meant less time in the company of his father-in-law.

Rodney also continued teaching John higher math. He was committed to learning and if he kept up his current pace, he’d have the equivalent of a Master’s within a year and a PhD two years after that.

Although the two men spent so much time together, living life and talking about everything under the sun, they were keeping secrets from each other. Rodney tried to hide the fact he was in love with John - - from himself and the man he’d fallen in love with. He felt guilty that he’d fallen in love so soon after his lover’s death. There was more guilt that he hadn’t mourned John longer. Rodney told himself that it was impossible to mourn his lover when he had him back.

Rodney also wasn’t positive John was interested in him as anything beyond a teacher for his son. He thought he caught some interest on John’s part, but wasn’t sure if he was reading things correctly. John had been married, and Rodney had no idea how to broach the subject. If he was wrong, John might order him to leave and Rodney couldn’t take that chance.

John picked up on Rodney’s guilt, and saw only grief. He occasionally saw pain in Rodney’s eyes misinterpreting longing for grief. He felt like the pettiest of men when he realized he hated the man from the future that bore his name and face. He struggled to hide his jealousy covering it up with the social niceties he’d been so well versed in. It felt dishonest to him; he was well used to hiding nearly everything about himself to the world, but for the first time he wanted to share everything he was with another person. He couldn’t do it, though. He didn’t want to intrude on Rodney’s grief, and he wouldn’t take the chance of driving him away.

~*~

Rodney had been back in town for a month, his comfortable routine well established. One day, around mid afternoon when Rodney was wrapping up Patrick’s lesson, an insistent knock at the front door broke the lazy silence of the house. Sabina answered and her lips thinned in disapproval when she saw Priscilla Tremont waiting.

“Is Mr. McKay at home,” the vapid young woman twittered.

“I’ll see if he’s available,” Sabina answered, closing the door without inviting the young woman in, deliberately insulting her. Priscilla Tremont was a forward, rude, young woman who had initially set her sights on John, treating Sabina like she was trash under her feet. Even if John _had_ been interested in her, he would have soon sent her packing.

She found Rodney in the schoolroom. She waited for Patrick to leave before informing him of his visitor. “Doctor McKay, you have a visitor,” Sabina said coldly.

Rodney didn’t need to hear the coldness in Sabina’s voice to know she was pissed with him; the use of his title would have been enough. After she had seen that he really didn’t give a damn about John’s background, or hers, she had unbent enough to call him Rodney - - except when he did something that displeased her. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a clue what he could have possibly done today; he’d barely seen her today.

“A visitor? Who’d be coming to visit me?” he asked with obvious confusion.

His confusion softened her. “Priscilla Tremont.”

“Who the hell is Priscilla Tremont?” he demanded.

Snickering, she just said, “Come. I left her waiting at the front door.”

Rodney went to answer the door, his body blocking the entrance. A well-dressed young woman of about twenty-two was waiting. Her dark brown hair was done up in what Rodney felt was an overly fussy style and she was short and curvy. “Can I help you?” he asked impatiently.

“Mr. McKay. We met several weeks ago at the General Store. My mother sent me to ask you to Sunday dinner,” Priscilla simpered.

“Why would she do that?” Rodney wondered out loud. He heard Sabina’s snicker joined by John’s. He’d been busy in the stable seeing to one of his horses and upon entering his home and hearing voices at the front door, came to see what was going on.

“Why, to be neighborly, of course,” she pouted.

When he realized just who was at the front door, John was curious as to what Rodney would do. Priscilla Tremont, or rather her father’s wealth, insured that she was the most eligible females in town. She had tried her best to entice him into marriage without knowing one thing about him, much to his disgust. He figured she was far more interested in his wealth than she was in him. The few times she and her mother had forced their way into his home, she had proved to be uninterested in his children and rude to Sabina. He had hoped to establish a cordial relationship with the Tremonts’ because they were neighbors, but Priscilla’s behavior had ended that hope.

Thinking that her pout wasn’t nearly as pretty as John’s, Rodney said, “Thanks, but no, I’m too busy with my research.” There was no way he’d give up even one hour with John to spend time with some stranger.

Priscilla flushed with either anger or embarrassment. “Surely you can leave off your studies for one day, Mr. McKay. Our cook is the finest in the county and I’m sure a good meal would not go amiss.”

Rodney may have had few social skills, but even he picked up on the insult to Sabina, and it raised his hackles. “Huh! And people call me rude,” he sniped.

“I beg your pardon!”

“You should!” Rodney huffed.

Holding back his laughter, John stepped in to rescue him before Priscilla could get into a snit. “I’m sure Doctor McKay appreciates your mother’s gracious offer, Miss Tremont, but he’s helping me with a business project,” John explained, knowing the mention of business would forestall any further conversation.

“I see,” Priscilla gritted out through her teeth. She attempted to gather her dignity around her. “Perhaps another time then.”

“Perhaps,” John murmured as the woman walked away, hoping it would be a cold day in hell before Rodney accepted an invitation from the scheming Priscilla Tremont.

John was gratified that Rodney had turned her down. He would have been hurt had the other man accepted Priscilla’s offer. Although he’d been reluctant to admit it, even to himself, he had recognized some time ago that he was falling deeper in love with Rodney as each day passed and was helpless to prevent it. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to.

John was finding it harder and harder to keep his hands off Rodney. He’d spent many hours during the last months fantasizing about making love with him, masturbating frequently in order to control himself. As Doctor McKay was a member of the household, John owed him protection, even if that meant protection from John himself.

John knew Rodney was still grieving the man who had his name and face. The last thing McKay needed was unwelcome attention from him. Those simple facts didn’t make it any easier for John, not when all he wanted to do was strip Rodney naked, and lick every inch of his body. Some days it was all he could think about.

Rodney had already retreated into the house, hands waving. “I can’t believe the nerve of her. Insulting you like that. Who does she think she is?”

She smiled at his defense of her and his innocence. Patting Rodney’s arm, she said, “Thank you for defending me, Rodney.” She went back to what she had been doing before their unwelcome visitor.

John came in, hoping to still get in a math lesson. “Don’t feel like you have to turn her down on our account, Rodney.”

Rodney, who had been on his way back to the schoolroom to begin John’s lesson, turned around to face him. “I know you aren’t that much of an idiot, Sheppard. Why the hell would I want to waste my time with an obvious moron? Now are you ready for your lesson?”

Smiling, John nodded and followed him to the schoolroom.

~*~

A week after Miss Tremont’s visit, it began to rain. It poured for three straight days, confining them to the house for all but the most essential things. Rodney began getting the pinched look around his mouth and eyes that John recognized was his silent signal that he was preparing to leave for his mystical city in the future.

Selfishly, John wanted to keep him as long as possible. To that end, he proposed a short vacation. Rodney looked relieved and agreed to join him in Manhattan for several days.

~*~

John expertly steered the horses and carriage through the Bronx. Rodney sat open mouthed, unable to believe that the densely populated area he had driven through several times in the future, was now all farmland. It seemed strange to see the last of the winter crops and empty field after empty field, and so many cows, horses, and sheep so close to the city.

John had planned a number of things for them to do and see. Much to Rodney’s disappointment, he’d booked two rooms for them at the St. Nicholas Hotel on Broadway. With the exception of work, John had spent no time in Manhattan since he’d met Rodney, and he was anticipating showing Rodney around town.

~*~

The two men were escorted to their rooms on the fifth floor, which were next to each other. Rodney had been surprised when he looked out the window, that the tallest building he could see was only about ten stories. The Manhattan in his memories was filled with skyscrapers that kissed the sky, with wide, broad streets, and crowds of people.

The Manhattan of 1880 was crowded, but with nowhere near the density Rodney remembered. Horses and carriages lined the sides of the streets, and caused congestion in the middle as their owners went about their business, and the stench of manure permeated the air despite a constant clean up. The buildings were packed together tightly, and the men and women he saw were well dressed and elegant.

The hotel lobby was richly appointed, and Rodney was charmed by the fact that it didn’t look like every other hotel he had ever found himself in. It was well maintained, and the all male staff, polite and professional. John knocked, and they went downstairs to the barbershop for a shave.

Rodney had only had a professional shave twice before, and it had been nothing like this. The barber waved his wickedly sharp razor, making Rodney nervous, but he wielded it expertly. He relaxed when he saw John leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed.

They went to eat a leisurely lunch in the hotel dining room with John laying out activities like a deck of cards. “So, Rodney, what would you like to do next? We can go to one of the museums by Central Park and then ride through the park on carriage or horseback.”

“You mean, get on an actual horse?” Rodney said horrified.

Laughing warmly, John said, “I think I’ll start your riding lessons next week.”

“I don’t think so,” he said dryly. “A museum and a carriage ride sound good, though.”

And for the next five days, they explored the many faces of the city. Rodney was bowled over when he saw actual sheep grazing in one of the meadows of Central Park. He was appalled at the filth he saw running in the streets in some of the poorer areas. He was charmed by the various theaters where he heard opera, or saw plays. Those theaters were for the upper class and men of John’s class were expected to put in an appearance if they were in the city, and John did so. Duty done, he then took Rodney to more lively entertainment.

There were a number of music halls with male only audiences, as the variety shows performed were considered too lewd and crude for women. Rodney found them uproariously funny and seeing John laugh with no restraints was a gift. In a few years, these acts would be cleaned up and be called Vaudeville. Afterward, they would find a pub and indulge in ale.

John knew of several museums for oddities, and while Rodney felt uncomfortable with some of the exhibits, he couldn’t help but enjoy himself, even laughing at the outright frauds. They also saw many of the legitimate museums when they could squeeze them in.

John had many acquaintances in the city, and they went to visit some of them. John always introduced Rodney as his “companion”, a title no one questioned. Rodney was as warmly welcomed as John. They ate at some of the best restaurants the city had to offer, and drank excellent wine.

All too soon, however, it was time to return to Hastings-On-Hudson.

~*~

Rodney continued to tutor Patrick after school, and John, whenever he had a free block of time. He knew he had to leave soon, and he didn’t want either of them to fall behind in their studies. In the evenings, John and Rodney retreated to the music room as was their custom. After they had been home a week, Rodney let John know it was time for him to return home.

John knew it was coming, but he was still hurt. He already missed Rodney, even though he had yet to go. They spent Rodney’s last night quietly talking over a game of cards. At midnight, they rose to go to their rooms.

“Will I see you before you leave?” John inquired.

“Yes, of course. I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

They walked to the door. Rodney had his hand on the handle to open it when John grabbed him and spun him around. Backing Rodney into the door, he began kissing him.

They kiss began as a gentle brush of lips, and John knew two things instantly; that one taste was too much and that this one taste would never be enough for him. John deepened the kiss and gentle became passionate, and shortly, both men were quickly panting as they became hard.

Rodney hung on to John, tangling his hands into thick, silky hair and shuddering when John sucked on his tongue. He rubbed closer, his body craving the feel of John pressing against him.

Reluctantly, John pulled off him, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m sorry. That will never happen again,” he panted, his breath harsh and ragged.

He left the room before Rodney could gather his wits and ask John back to his room.

It was a long time before Rodney slept.

### Atlantis

When Rodney returned to Atlantis, sleep was elusive, even though it was the middle of the night, and he had slept so poorly his last night in Hastings-On-Hudson. Rodney walked the empty corridors of Atlantis, hearing the echo of John’s footsteps and his laughter. As a man of science, he didn’t believe in ghosts, yet he felt John’s presence with him.

He ended up on the East pier, listening to the waves lapping against the city and there he made peace with himself and his feelings. “John,” he whispered, “I love you, and I’ll always love you. Just don’t - - don’t hate me, okay? I didn’t mean to fall in love again. It just happened.”

He felt a little foolish, talking to John. He was sure that the John who had lived and died on Atlantis and the John who lived in the past were the same man. He had no scientific proof for this; there was nothing he could scan for or test or measure, yet he still knew it to be true. He was finally ready to grab this miracle with both hands.

Rodney felt a breeze caress his face and ruffle his hair, and he breathed in the salt air. It felt like the universe was giving him permission to accept whatever happiness came his way. He would miss Atlantis; miss it everyday for the rest of his life. But if John would have him, that’s where he wanted to live out his days.

Over the next week, Rodney prepared as though he wouldn’t be back. He intended on staying with John for as long as he’d have him. He left no clues. There wasn’t anything in his behavior that would alert anyone, not even those closest to him.

But with each person he spoke with, he said a silent goodbye. He hoped to find a way to make up for his desertion. Leaving was something he hadn’t allowed himself to acknowledge, although the fact that he’d been working toward just that goal for months didn’t escape his notice. He had rationalized every step along the way, finding an excuse for his every action.

The only people he wished he could say a proper goodbye to were Teyla, Ronon, and Radek. They would stop him from leaving if they found out though, and that wasn’t a chance Rodney was willing to take.

He left Atlantis a week after he’d returned.

### Hastings-On-Hudson, December, 1880

Rodney had been back for two days and hadn’t seen John at all. Sabina said he was on a business trip. Rodney tried hard not to be jealous, but John had alluded to the dual purposes of the business trips he had taken when he was married, and it was hard to think of him in someone else’s arms. He had no claim on this Sheppard, but he damn well planned to change that. He wanted nothing more than to claim John.

It was an easy decision to make once he’d finally put aside his grief and his guilt and acknowledged that he’d fallen in love with John. He had been granted a miracle, and although he wasn’t sure he deserved one, he wasn’t about refuse it. But, Sheppard was Sheppard, no matter the time, and he had to move slowly - - regardless of how much that went against his natural inclinations.

He taught Patrick, and ate Sabina’s meals, fending off her questions about where he spent his time when he wasn’t in Hastings-On-Hudson. Rodney walked John’s property in spite of the cold, throwing pebbles into the river, wondering if John disappeared like this often. He refused to satisfy his curiosity by asking Sabina, not wanting to look as pathetic and lovesick as he felt.

Rodney was nearing the end of Patrick’s math lesson when John returned home. Unable to hide his excitement at his father’s return, Rodney waved him off, feeling just as excited. He cleaned up the books and papers from their lesson, hoping John would seek him out after he greeted his son.

John entered the room, as Rodney was finishing up. “John! How was your business trip?”

“Rodney, would you mind sitting for a moment?” John invited, moving a chair out so he could also sit.

Rodney sat, taking in John’s face. He looked drawn and tired, but still - - so beautiful. It was unfair, Rodney thought, that a man could be so beautiful. He missed the flash of pain in John’s eyes as he took in Rodney’s face, and the setting of his jaw.

“I’ve spent the last two days making arrangements for Patrick to attend Wentworth Military Academy,” John lied. He had no intention of sacrificing either of his sons to the military. It was nothing but a convenient excuse.

“I - - I don’t understand. I thought you were totally against sending him away to school. I can teach him different stuff if you want,” Rodney blustered.

“No, you’ve done an excellent job,” John began, falling back as usual on meaningless social niceties. He wanted nothing more than to take Rodney in his arms and lead him to his bed and lock the world away. “The truth is that I - - that Patrick needs more than a part time education. We can’t compete with the lure of the future, Rodney. I understand why you’re gone for weeks at a time, but it’s difficult to explain that to Patrick.”

“John, don’t do this to Patrick. I’ll . . . I’ll leave if you want me to, but please don’t send your son away,” Rodney said brokenly.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to Patrick. I’ll tell him after you’re gone,” John instructed. With the freedom to come and go as he pleased, John felt Rodney could never be fully committed to life in the past, to a life with him. And what could he possibly offer him that could measure up to a fabled city in the future, or to the ghost of the man Rodney had loved? John would settle for nothing less than Rodney’s full time presence, however, and it was something he couldn’t even bring himself to ask for, lest he be turned down.

Rodney felt as though he’d been kicked in the chest. If felt like losing John all over again. Rodney had been willing to give up everything that had ever had meaning for him. He knew John wanted him, knew they could have a life together, and couldn’t understand why John was asking him to leave. Rodney was numb with pain.

All his careful plans to court John were now meaningless. And, really, what could he offer John? In this time and place, he had no position, no money, nothing that had any meaning.

He’d fallen in love with the John Sheppard of the past just as surely as he had loved the John Sheppard that belonged to Atlantis. It wasn’t just the bone and flesh and beauty Rodney saw, it was an irreverent personality, and a fierce intelligence coupled with a strong moral compass. The things that Rodney had loved about John Sheppard in Atlantis were all the same things he loved about John Sheppard here in the past.

“I’ll be gone by tomorrow,” Rodney said dully. He wanted the opportunity to say a private goodbye to the people and places he’d grown to love.

Standing, John forced himself to feel nothing. He had an impulse to get down on his knees and beg Rodney to stay, but his pride would not allow it. “I will be leaving for the city mid-morning,” he said curtly, forcing himself to walk away from the man he loved beyond all reason.

Rodney said nothing as he watched John walk away. He left for his room soon after to pack. He made sure that every piece of Ancient tech that he’d brought with him was packed, along with a number of small items that he’d collected during his time here that he couldn’t bear to leave behind.

He couldn’t face dinner with the family, so he left the house to take a walk. He found himself in town, being greeted by the people of the small village that he had come to know over the last months. They all recognized him as Patrick Sheppard’s tutor and respected him accordingly. He could have stayed here the rest of his life and been happy if he had John’s love.

Rodney got home late enough that dinner was over. Sabina had left him a covered plate with his dinner on the side of the stove. It was still warm when he sat at the table to eat. He tried to savor the meal, not knowing when he would taste such wonderful home cooking again, but his appetite had deserted him.

He cleared the food into the trash and washed his plate and utensils, feeling restless. Unable to resist, Rodney, wandered one last time into the music room. He sat at the piano, pushing aside the memories of the many nights he’d spent playing the beautiful instrument after the boys and Sabina went to bed, John quietly listening. He had rediscovered his love of playing here, enjoying the rapt look on John’s face when he played.

Rodney let his hands pick out a tune, not terribly surprised when they settled on a song that had recently found its way to Atlantis.

~*~

John stood by the entrance to the music room; entranced by Rodney’s music. He had come in part way through the piece and was stunned by the emotion he felt pouring off the man at the piano. Each note played, each word sung, was pain-drenched and poignant. As much pain as he’d been in, he hadn’t realized that Rodney had felt the same.

John had never heard or felt such emotion from music. He stood and listened, unnoticed by the man he’d fallen in love with.

_. . . Old friend, why are you so shy?  
Ain't like you to hold back or hide from the light._

_I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited_  
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it.  
I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded  
That for me it isn't over.

 _Never mind, I'll find someone like you_  
I wish nothing but the best for you too  
Don't forget me, I beg  
I remember you said,  
"Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead,  
Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead,"  
Yeah.

 _You know how the time flies_  
Only yesterday was the time of our lives  
We were born and raised  
In a summer haze  
Bound by the surprise of our glory days

 _I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited_  
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it.  
I’d hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded  
That for me it isn't over.

 _Never mind, I'll find someone like you_  
I wish nothing but the best for you too  
Don't forget me, I beg  
I remember you said,  
"Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead."

 _Nothing compares_  
No worries or cares  
Regrets and mistakes  
They are memories made.  
Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?

Rodney ended the song abruptly, his hands falling on the keys in discordant noise. He wanted to smash the piano to pieces, wanted to take his pain out on something. He bitterly recognized the stupidity and uselessness of that feeling.

He was going home tomorrow. For good. He’d say goodbye to the boys and Sabina, and take these new memories with him. The time he’d spent in the past was over now. If he left early enough, he might miss John. It would be easier that way.

John would never love him, would never make a life with him, and he was tired of the pain. He’d go back to Atlantis, figure out how to charge or make the ZPM’s and maybe get rid of the Wraith while he was at it, and then he’d go back to Earth. He would try and make a life for himself, try to be grateful that he’d found love not once, but twice. Maybe he’d even win a Nobel, no matter how pointless that seemed without John at his side.

The hand that fell gently on his shoulder startled Rodney. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything so beautiful.”

He looked up. “John. I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

Moving his hand to Rodney’s neck, caressing softly, his voice low and rough with emotion and arousal. “You’ve been disturbing me from the day we met, Rodney.” Laying his heart on the ground, he held his hand out. “Come to bed?”

Confused, Rodney rose from the piano bench, his face a mask of disbelief. “What are you saying, John?”

“I’m saying that I can’t be him. I can’t be the John you once knew, but I want you, and I’m tired of pretending that I don’t.” He grasped Rodney’s hand and led him to his bedroom and the large brass bed that sat in the middle of the room.

He removed his shirt and then began to unbutton Rodney’s shirt, his fingers brushing bare skin. “I want to make you forget him. I want you to see only me and I want to know that when you moan my name, you mean me and not him.”

“I do, John. I’ve seen only you for months,” Rodney whispered.

John kissed the corner of Rodney’s mouth, his hand cupping his throat, his thumb stroking. He inhaled the spicy scent of Rodney’s skin, his nose burrowing softly into Rodney’s neck. “I don’t want to see pain in your eyes when you look at me,” he whispered. “And I want to know that you’ll be here every day for the rest of your life.”

Rodney kissed John’s jaw line, moaning softly. “No pain, John, I promise.”

He stripped the shirt from Rodney’s body, hands touching bared skin, his mouth tasting the firm, pale flesh. Hands shaking, he opened Rodney’s trousers, sliding them off before removing the rest of his own clothes.

Rodney lay before him, beautiful in his nakedness, fully erect, and quivering, and reaching out for him. John moved over him and finally, finally, after months of denying himself, he was free to make love to this extraordinary man.

Sucking the small, rose pink nipples and hands smoothing over Rodney’s solid body, John felt his cock throbbing as Rodney moaned his pleasure. He moved closer so they could kiss, and it was his turn to softly moan.

Rodney was unable to still his hands or his mouth, and he used both, reaching to touch and kiss John’s body, lost in a sensuous haze. Moving down, John licked and kissed until he reached Rodney’s fat, red cock. He took a moment to admire it, his mouth watering.

Pressing his face into Rodney’s groin, John inhaled the masculine scent of musk and gripped his lover’s hips hard enough to bruise. Kissing heavy balls, he grunted at his first taste. He licked his way up the shaft and slid his mouth down.

John loved the way Rodney’s cock filled his mouth, gliding over his tongue. He could feel the throb of blood and Rodney’s shallow thrusts into his throat. Rodney’s throaty groaning of his name was the most erotic thing he’d ever heard.

His cheeks hollowed as he sucked Rodney’s cock, concentrating on the fat, flared head, twisting his tongue round and round it. He lapped delicately at the fluid that beaded at the tip, feeling his own penis leaking.

Rodney pulled John up between his legs, plunged his hands through his thick, soft hair, and pulled him down so he could kiss him. The wet, open-mouthed kiss grabbed Rodney by his balls, and the feel of John’s flesh on his was intoxicating and exquisite. He wanted to take his time, savor every sensation. It had been too long, though.

His eyes slid shut as John’s tongue tangled with his, and the kiss went on and on. John’s hands cupped his face as he gentled the kiss, his breath speeding up as he thrust into Rodney’s welcoming body over and over.

Rodney wrapped his arms around John and met each thrust, his cock rubbing against hair roughened skin, the exquisite friction making pleasure spiral deep in his belly. Sweating and striving, he sought John’s mouth again as his legs wrapped around slim hips.

John dragged his mouth away. “Look at me, Rodney,” he panted. “Please, open your eyes.”

Rodney opened his eyes, pupils totally blown to look into John’s beloved face. John saw the loving look - - the look that was for him, and couldn’t hold back. He came sweating and moaning, his orgasm pulsing and slicking Rodney’s body.

Rodney felt the deep shudders of John’s body as he came. His large hands gripped John’s ass, pressing him tightly against his body. A few more thrusts and Rodney was coming - - coming hard, coming apart, wrapped around a softly compliant John.

Rodney melted into the bed, panting heavily. John was still writhing, grunting softly as he recovered from a devastating orgasm.

“God, John, that was unbelievable. I should be angry that you made me wait so long,” Rodney breathed harshly.

John reached for Rodney, kissing him tenderly. “I want to be able to do this everyday, Rodney. I can’t offer you a shining city in another galaxy, or advanced science,” John began. “I can’t give you my name, but I _can_ give you a family, and a home. And passion. And, love, Rodney. I can give you love,” his pained voice trailed off.

The John Sheppard Rodney had loved on Atlantis and this man were genetically identical and had many of the same traits. They both had a military education and experience in war. They both took on more of their share of responsibility and were protective of those under their care. They both felt the weight of expectations, often against what they themselves might have wanted.

This John was a fully realized John. He was what the Sheppard of Atlantis was meant to be, what he could have been, had he had a loving influence in his life. This John had Sabina and two children who adored him. And as much as Rodney had loved Sheppard, the depth of that love paled against what he felt for this John.

Rodney knew many things. He had two PhD’s and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that he was perhaps the most brilliant man on the planet. Of all the things he knew, the thing he knew best was that he loved John and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him.

When Rodney didn’t answer immediately, John felt despair coursing through his body. John didn’t give his trust easily, and there were only a select few he allowed into his heart and life. John had never loved anyone he’d taken to bed before Rodney, and he was terrified he’d made a huge mistake. John searched Rodney’s face, trying to read an answer there.

“Well, that sounds like a pretty good deal to me, especially the love part,” Rodney confessed. After all, he had only been waiting to be asked.

“You mean you’ll stay?” John rasped.

“For as long as you’ll have me, John,” he murmured. “And for as long as the love thing is on offer.”

“So forever then?”

“Yeah, John, forever.”

### Afterward

In addition to the usual supplies and databurst, there were two rather large, heavy boxes addressed to Radek. Elizabeth delivered them to the lab herself, along with the biggest Marine she could find, curious, but asking no questions. The labs were a different place since John had been killed. Where once they had been filled with Rodney’s voice, arguing and insulting and boasting in turn, they were now quiet and somber and had been for months.

Since Rodney’s disappearance, a depressing pall hung over the air; conversations were hushed and emotions were muted, as if people were afraid to disturb the grief that had existed since John had died. The brief flurry of activity after Rodney’s disappearance was gone, the legacy of his mourning once again replacing panic and activity.

Zelenka was still working on trying to discover just what had happened to Rodney, but it had been a month with absolutely no clues as to where he’d gone. Elizabeth was still hoping Radek would come to his senses and finally accept that whatever had happened to Rodney, they had exhausted every avenue of investigation, and it was now time to put aside their grief and move on to other things. She was reluctant to order him to do so, but she knew that soon she would have no choice.

The burly Marine waited at the entrance to the lab while Elizabeth asked Radek where he wanted the packages delivered. Looking over the bulky boxes, wrapped in brown paper with his name scrawled across the front of them in what looked to be General O’Neill’s impatient, sloppy scrawl, he politely asked for them to be sent to his quarters. Elizabeth took in Radek’s hunched shoulders, red-rimmed eyes, and overall haggard appearance, and willed herself not to comment. Eyes soft with sympathy, she griped his arm tightly before leaving him.

Radek would have welcomed a cup of coffee, but he’d been unable to drink the stuff since Rodney’s mysterious disappearance; it brought back too many memories, and left him unable to work. His curiosity about the packages getting the better of him, Radek left the lab. Every scientist currently in the lab breathed a sigh of relief, looking at his retreating figure with worried eyes and hoping he was going to get some much needed rest. He stopped by the mess to get a cup of tea and some plain bread and fruit. The middle-aged woman manning the food line tempted him with a variety of things, even offering to have the cook make him a special meal, but the plain wholesome food was all he would accept.

Radek reached his quarters, weary beyond anything he’d ever felt before. He knew Elizabeth was close to ordering him to suspend his search, but he wouldn’t give up looking for Rodney no matter what his orders. If necessary, he was prepared to resign his position and beg on hand and knee to be allowed to work in one of the out of the way labs on the other side of the city. He was sure he could convince Elizabeth and this was something he owed Rodney - - and John.

Removing his glasses to polish them, Radek eyed the packages sitting on his table and decided they could wait for another ten minutes. He nibbled on a piece of bread as he undressed and walked into the bathroom. Adjusting the water for a cool shower, he scrubbed and planned the next step in his search for McKay.

Briskly drying his body, Radek donned scrubs so that he could be comfortable while going through the boxes. Someone had numbered them and Zelenka began with the box numbered one. He carefully removed the wrapping and then sliced through the tape sealing the box with a knife Ronon had gifted him with and that he used as a letter opener.

Inside the box were a number of packages of various sizes, all carefully wrapped. An envelope with his name on it, in a different hand than the one that had addressed the packages, lay on top of it all. Radek warily picked up the envelope, struck with the sudden feeling that whatever it contained would change his life.

Several neatly handwritten pages were enclosed. Radek read it three times before he was able to fully believe what it said.

_Doctor Zelenka,_

_A week after Doctor McKay reportedly went missing from Atlantis, several boxes were delivered to Cheyenne Mountain, addressed to General O’Neill and myself. The gentleman delivering the boxes, Justin White, an attorney at a New York law firm that has existed since 1875, had an unbelievable story to tell us._

_We have spent the last three weeks doing nothing else but trying to verify the information given to us by Mr. White, and going through the contents of what was sent to us. Much of what we were sent now belongs to you, as per instructions that came with the contents of the delivery._

_Mr. White informed us that the material started arriving at their law firm in 1920, along with enough money for storage for all these years, and with Mr. White’s fee and plane fare to Colorado. The person who initially arranged for this storage was one Meredith Rodney McKay. The last box arrived at the law firm about two months after Meredith Rodney McKay’s death, which occurred late in 1929. It was delivered early in 1930 - - by John Sheppard - - who died two weeks later._

_Mr. Sheppard had been a client of the firm since its inception, one of its first, at least according to company legend. Also, according to Mr. White, (whose great-grandfather founded the firm), the name McKay first became known to them when Sheppard initially asked them to find McKay, who had shown up in 1880, on Founder’s Day, the year after Hastings-On-Hudson in New York was incorporated as a town._

_McKay had shown up and then mysteriously disappeared, only to reappear several weeks later. This pattern continued for several months. Sheppard told his lawyer that he wanted to find McKay because he wanted to hire him as his son’s tutor. In light of certain rumors later on, it had been speculated by the lawyers of the time that that wasn’t Sheppard’s only reason for locating McKay, or even the main one, but the fabrication was allowed given the era._

_It’s important to note that the lawyers of the day could find no reference or record for Meredith Rodney McKay. According to Mr. White’s family lore, it was as if McKay didn’t exist before 1880. What is known is that sometime in 1880, Sheppard moved McKay into his house, where he lived with his two sons, his wife having died several years earlier in childbirth. Mr. Sheppard always referred to McKay as his companion, and there was gossip on and off throughout the years as to the true nature of the relationship between the two men. For better or worse, Sheppard had enough money to silence the gossips, and once McKay was on the scene he made an obscene amount of money, a fortune that was the foundation for a dynasty._

_This fortune was the basis on which Sheppard International was founded, and which is the company owned by the late Colonel Sheppard’s family. Jack says his head hurts just thinking about the implications of all of this. Sam thinks this puts paid to the theory that time travel would automatically throw you into a parallel universe, unless the same events have occurred over many worlds. I’m not willing to discount anything, not after the years I’ve spent at the SGC._

_The boxes that we were instructed to forward to you contained the following; over one hundred papers, many of them co-authored with John Sheppard and that detail how to recharge ZPM’s along with research about a similar technology which has the potential of solving our energy crisis, (The papers made Sam cry. She is taking McKay’s disappearance much harder than any of us expected), a few dozen handwritten notebooks, which seem to be a 50 year long conversation with you, a number of personal belongings, and photos. You should know that while the papers were scanned, only General O’Neill or myself saw anything of a personal nature._

_Jack wanted me to tell you to keep a light burning for us. Sam, Jack, and I will be coming to Atlantis soon. As per Rodney’s instructions, we are also trying to persuade Jeannie Miller to join us. Sam is looking forward to working with you, and I’ve wanted to be there for quite some time now. Until recently, Jack was needed on Earth and wouldn’t let me go to Atlantis without him._

_I apologize on General O’Neill’s behalf for not getting these things to you sooner, Doctor Zelenka. If you have any questions regarding any of this that the contents of the boxes you’ve been sent don’t answer, please let me know and I will do my best to get you answers._

_Very truly yours,_

_Doctor Daniel Jackson_

Radek put the letter aside and removed his glasses to rub at tired eyes. He reached into the open box for the first thick packet, suspecting from its irregular size that it contained photographs. He could see where it had been originally sealed and then resealed. He felt a moment of irritation that was soon gone when he saw the first photo.

He reached for his glasses so he could clearly see the photo he held. It was obviously old, and showed two men and two boys, formally dressed, but unlike other photos of the time, all the subjects were smiling and relaxed. Radek flipped through the photos carefully, noting almost as an afterthought, that the two men in the photos did indeed seem to be Rodney and John. And events from the past slotted into place in his mind.

As the photos were sepia toned, or black and white, it was impossible to tell the color of anyone’s eyes, but he would stake his life on the men being John and Rodney. As the years in the photographs passed, the children grew older, Rodney became balder, and John’s hair had more white mixed with the black. The poses became more intimate by the time wives, and then grandchildren showed up. The one thing that was consistent was the look of utter happiness and contentment on both Rodney and John’s face.

The last photo was one that Radek was familiar with; in fact he had a copy of it on his desk. Of course, his was under ten years old and not in the least bit faded or frayed as was the one he was now holding. It had been taken in the first year of the expedition and was a group photo, showing nearly two-dozen of the expedition members. Radek cherished it not only for what it represented, but also for those who no longer lived. It was a moment caught in time, a moment of triumph, and happiness, and utter, utter relief.

And he knew now, with no doubts and no uncertainty what had happened to Rodney, and he felt a savage joy, as well as deep pain.

Radek reached back into the box and ignoring oddly shaped items, reached for what he was sure was a book. He unwrapped it and opened it to the middle, and read from a page dated June 25th, 1885.

_I wish you could smell the air here, Radek. I miss you and Atlantis every day, but I’ve never been happier. Sometimes, it’s hard to work as John or the children nag me until I come out to play. More often than not, especially on days like this, I drop my work more easily than I ever have, just to spend time with them. . ._

Radek closed the book vowing to read the books in order, and wiped absently at his face, surprised when his fingers came away wet. He didn’t know if he was crying out of happiness, or grief, or some combination.

He supposed it didn’t matter.

### Epilogue

Ten years after Rodney disappeared, Jeannie McKay Miller, Radek Zelenka, and General Samantha Carter split the Nobel Prize, along with posthumous honors to Doctor Rodney McKay and Colonel John Sheppard. It was an unprecedented move on the part of the Nobel Prize Committee, who never in their history had considered awarding the prize posthumously. There were many people in the audience that Radek recognized, people that knew him, Jeannie, or Sam, but also John and Rodney.

Radek accepted his prize, weeping unashamedly, a sobbing Jeannie Miller at his side. Jeannie’s eyes searched out her husband and daughter feeling a momentary pang of loss that there was only one child to sit in the audience. General Samantha Carter stood proud and straight, as befitted her rank, and only Jeannie and Radek were close enough to hear her sniffling or see the struggle to hold back her tears. Rodney - - and John - - were on the minds of all three of them, and their absence was keenly felt.

Radek scanned the audience and his eyes fell upon a stoic David Sheppard sitting alone. Ronon and Teyla were there as well, tears streaming down their faces. Jack and Daniel had gated in from Atlantis and were sitting together, holding hands tightly in a show of support for him, Jeannie, and Sam. Teal’c was next to them, dressed in the flowing robes of Chulak.

Behind them, Radek saw many, many people from the SGC and Atlantis. Some of them he saw frequently and some of them he hadn’t seen in years. Elizabeth was there, looking lost and alone, and his heart broke for her. Colonel Lorne, who had remained the military commander of Atlantis, was there, with Parrish, and Radek could see his reddened eyes.

Not everyone there was privy to what had been Rodney’s ultimate fate, and for those who didn’t know, the day was especially emotional. Rodney would have been gratified at how often his name was brought up in quiet respect, or in sadness.

Radek wished for one selfish moment that Rodney was by his side. It was his work, after all, that had made all this possible. He missed his friend everyday, and he knew how pleased he would have been to be awarded the Nobel.

And for the rest of his life, Radek wore a secret smile whenever anyone mentioned John or Rodney’s name.

The End

 

Mo lʹibis = my sweetness.

Midril = devil

 

 _Someone Like You written by Adele and Dan Wilson._  
John Brown’s Body; there are various claims of authorship, and in the tradition of American folk music, it is difficult to say who really wrote any piece of music. The person who put pen to paper and then their name on a given piece, was often writing down the latest version of a particular tune that was probably far older and had been through various incarnations.  
Thank you to Nancy for pointing out the Girl Scout version.


End file.
